Too much

Sometimes I feel so alone

Sometimes I feel very down

Sometimes I don’t feel a thing

Things that I’ve lived through my life have made me this

This is it

This is who I am

This is what I have

Nothing more

Nothing less

I do, and do, and do, and get nothing in return

I know that you’re not supposed to ask for things back

But why can’t I have you by my side when I’ve had your back?

On the good, on the bad

I was there to stay and keep you on track

Being a strong person doesn’t mean I have no feelings

Doesn’t mean I don’t feel shit

Doesn’t mean that I ain’t gonna lock myself in my room after this

Repressed feelings is my way of livin’

Because if I ain’t there for myself, then who will?

Not you, nor you

Don’t lie and tell me you’ll be my side, that you’re my friend and that in you I can confide

Sometimes I just wanna die

Swallow them pills and say goodbye

1,2,3 down it goes

Down, down, down the rabbit hole

Damm, didn’t think I’d be here for so long

Take me already, I’m ready to leave

Have had my bags packed since I was sixteen

One day, one day is what I ask for

Just one day, to feel back the love that I give

Is it too much?

Someone tell me so that I can just stop holding on to that thought

Am I crazy? Maybe I am, maybe I’m not

Maybe I’m the one that’s too much for you or maybe just not enough?

Yeah, not enough

Only good to hear your problems, only good to help you face them, only good to go to you

Oh, but God forbid I feel stuck, when I ask for company they probably think “yuck”

Who am I kidding

I don’t matter, I’m just a burden, a broken doll

A broken doll asking for too much

A broken doll asking for too much

.

.

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A broken doll asking for too much

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Fuck Your V-Day

I woke up at seven, got up and started getting ready for work. Nothing better than having my mom telling me shit about how I don’t do anything in my life, great. That was a hellavuh good morning for me. Went crying to my room and only gave myself four minutes to do so. After that, I realized that I wasn’t crying because of the shit my mom told me just then, but because I realized it has been a year already since I move back to San Diego since I left Oregon, since I left the one that I thought was ‘it’. My mind didn’t know it, but my heart did (or subconcious, whatevs). I’m pretty sure I’m not the only once that has experienced this kind of situation.

Since elementary, I remember getting so excited for Valentine’s, just going to the store to buy candy and the most awesome V-cards there were out there to hand out to my classmates.
At first it didn’t hurt, seeing that most of my female classmates would receive anonymous letters from guys declaring their love to them, roses and fancy chocolate being delivered. It didn’t hurt because I would think to myself “Next year…”. “Next year” never happened to me. But who am I to blame? Really? Who would do that? Who would be the poor bastard to like a chubby, four-eyed girl with a slick back ponytail like me? No one. I never had a secret Valentine, or just a Valentine for what matters. Just grew up hopeless in that department. A big ass hopeless romantic.

I was bullied for my physical appearance growing up, since first grade of Elementary, all the way up through High School. From how I would pronounce my “ch”, how my glasses were so big and thick, the extra pounds on me, and not really having a style, well, pretty much for everything. Girls would talk to me behind my back and boys would laugh right in front of my face. And I really didn’t understand why, why was I the target of so many people. Fortunately that didn’t make me change the way I was, kind.
Everything that I’ve been through has made me who I am right now. Yeah, I may be read like a female version of a Don Juan, but I do have feelings. I’ve had very nice bonds with my men, and also shitty experiences/feelings with them as well. Life has taught me to be a cabrona. It has its advantages and disadvantages, and they are usually in two extreme opposite poles.

That’s how I grew up disliking Valentine’s Day. I think I’ve only celebrated Valentine’s three times, and that was because I was dating my first boyfriend (around five years ago). Nothing before that, and still, nothing after that. I could say that I could care less, but damn, it looks like it feels hella nice. *Exhale slowly* Oh well, that’s life and I can’t do anything about it. Fuck everything and everyone, especially you, Cupid! You keep freaking missing!