Kissing a Fool

How lost must I be that you have me going back to the one thing I swore I would repress form my lips and mind entirely

Maybe it’s better to stay in a dry spill than go back to the torturous task of an art that has been so played out.

I mean it was played out when it was written out 154 times

Yet here I am trying to reiterate what has always been stated in iambic pentameter

In rhyme

In kids poems

In erotic literature

There’s just nothing new to say about the time consuming, death eating, fucking plain messed feeling up that builds up inside me when I see you, when I think about you, when you hold my hand and kiss my neck

Because it’s all been said before

It’s not new to want to rip apart every memory because so help me God even the happy ones make me feel like there’s nothing to hold on to

Because they’re an echo of doubt

They’re a sad excuse of a deranged version of a fairy tail that I can’t help but find in every book I read, every song I hear and every insignificant sentence that simply mean so much to me

Not knowing if you can read between my lines or there’s a subtext in the way you nonchalantly glace at your side when I’ve drifted off into my non-sense once again

And then there’s your confusion

Which confuses me

And confuses you

And then it’s back to me

And then I end up being completely honest about something that I don’t even know if I’m saying correctly because there tends to be a third party nagging at my brain to mix fictional feelings with uncertain truth and makes me bombard the wall you’ve build up to high because you can’t have me being right

At all

Not even about this

The irony being that you’re the one who supposedly feels so sure about himself

You can’t answer the question of what is it you want

Your coward sense of humor and chivalry surpasses your logic

And yet I’m the one who’s complicated

When I’ve managed to put aside my pride and wait for something that you want but doesn’t convince you

Knowing all the same that if the tables were turned you wouldn’t wait for me

Maybe I am crazy

Or just plainly stupid

But I guess you must have been kissing a fool

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Unmemorable

And so here I am once again, laying in my bed in the middle of the dark with only the light of this screen to illuminate my thoughts. What is keeping me up tonight? Well let’s wonder into my mind to figure that out.

Insecurities. Low self esteem. Utter hopelessness. Yup, that pretty much sums up the thoughts that are floating in my mind right now. You see, I’m what you call the “oh and that other girl friend.” The unmemorable female that no guy is really interested in because she always goes out with her hot best friends. I might have the most interesting brain to pick, I mean at least I think I do, but then again appearances are the ones that catch the eyes so the guy will make his move. Apparently I am not a 10 or near that on any scale.

Why should I care though? Oh right, because I am sick and tired of being forgotten by everyone. Am I really that uninteresting? It’s not like I’m THAT quiet. My mind is pretty loud, but I’m not going to share it with random strangers the first time we meet.

So I’m categorized as the weird ugly friend that is not even worth remembering the name. I mean what for?

Someday someone will care.