I’m a really good liar.
I’m not sure if it’s something to be proud of but I’m a really good liar.
It doesn’t make me a bad person
Just a liar
& if I’m gonna be anything it better be good
So I lie
We all lie
Here & there
But we all lie
I’m the queen of deception
I used to say “I don’t lie, I just don’t tell the whole truth”
Which was true
Which is true
Except it’s not
I lie
I lie almost everyday
Because I don’t tell the whole truth and that’s a lie
My biggest pet peeve is a liar
Lord knows I hate liars
Because I am one
And part of me hates it
The other part loves it
I love fooling people
It’s my life
I could show what I want
And hide what id like
Isn’t that how it works?
I don’t know, no one ever showed me
I know you’re not supposed to lie
The truth shall set you free
Except it won’t
The truth hurts
And I’ve learned people can’t handle a lot
They think they can but they can’t
They’re weak minded
So I lie
To make them feel better
To make me feel better
As if I was really helping them
I know I’m not
I just lie to myself
I told you I lie everyday
I don’t lie about big things or important things
Just small things to make people feel better about their individual lives
Something like:
Oh no, you’re not fat. You’re just big boned
Oh no, you look good. I promise
I didn’t get your call, I’m sorry
I never received a text
You’re perfect the way you are
I wouldn’t change a thing
I could have swore I let you know ahead of time
I’ll be ready in 10
I didn’t hook up last night
I only have eyes for you
I would never hurt you
I love you.
You know, normal stuff
Okay maybe a lot of that I don’t say
But my point is across
We all lie
It’s normal
It’s familiar
I’ve been lied to a lot
Specifically by people who said they’d never hurt me
People who vowed they loved me
People who should have loved me
But that’s life
We all lie
I lie
You lie
We all lie
It hurts those around us more than we think
But we still do it
I still do it
Maybe I’m selfish
Maybe I care too much
Maybe I just don’t give a damn
Or maybe I’m just a really good liar
I’m not a bad person
I’m just great at deception


Be happy

Have you ever asked yourself why?
Just really questioned why?
Why you are the way you are?
Why you live the life you live?
Why you like certain things?
Dislike certain things?
Why you feel happy when you see a happy child?
Why you feel sad when someone dies in a movie?
Why you feel on top of the world some days?
But want to crawl into a cave other days?
I have.
I do.
I question everything.
My mom says my nickname as a child was “porque” which translates to why. She said I asked why for everything.
Why is the sky blue?
Why do I have brown eyes and other kids have blue eyes?
Why am I 5 and my brother is 10?
Why do I have to go to school?
Why can’t I express myself the way I’d like?
Why do I pretend to be happy when I know I’m not?
Why do I hold back my tears when I know I don’t have to?
Why do I try to be strong?
Why do I feel that I need to be strong at all times?
Why do I live this particular life?
Why has god given me such a hard life?
Why did I have sex at only 13 years old?
Why is my body count higher than my age?
Why did i try all those different drugs?
Why did I let men use me?
Why did I use others?
Why did I let myself get abused?
Why do I blame myself for being abused?
Why do I still look for my abuser?
Why do I jump from relationship to relationship?
Why do I feel what I’m feeling now?
Why do I have to question everything?
Why can’t I just be happy with the life I was given?
Why can’t I just be happy?
Because I don’t live the life I want
Because happiness comes from within
Because misery loves company
Because to appreciate the sun you gotta know what rain is
Because I’m living everyone’s life but my own

Latching onto me

You never realize the severity of your problems until one day you do. I thought depression was gone. I thought I was okay. Until I realized I’m always okay. Everything is always okay. I don’t talk back. I don’t start problems. I always compromise. I break bits and pieces of myself every time. But it’s okay. Except it’s not.

Before him, I used men. I used sex to fill the void in my life. I used men and they used me. I  never thought anything of it. It was just sex. Sex was just sex. For me anyway. I like the different touch; I like the different skin; I like the different feelings. Then one day I stopped.Except I didn’t.

During men, I used drugs. I used drugs to get me high, to get me numb. I built my tolerance and didn’t even know it. I loved being numb. Drugs were my escape. They filled a void. Not THE void, but a void. Drugs were fun. Drugs are addicting, so I stopped.Except I didn’t.

In between being numb and being used, I learned that I don’t feel pain. Physical atleast. My pain tolerance is really high. Or I was just always too high. I stopped feeling. I stopped feeling boys & I stopped feeling high, so I started purposely inflicting pain. I got a tattoo. I got a shit load of tattoos. I wanted to feel again. Except I didn’t.

I was okay with being used. I was okay with using men for sex. I was okay with being numb because I was so low I wanted to be high. I was okay with piercing my skin with needles & ink to feel anything but numb. Except it’s not okay & it never was.

He was supposed to make it all okay. Except he didn’t. Instead I broke pieces of myself everyday to fill his void. All to make him okay. So I never stopped being used. I never stopped being numb. I never stopped using drugs, I just found a new one. And it’s not okay. It was never okay. And I am not okay. Depression never left. I just learned to live with it. I learned to hide it. And now I can’t anymore. Now he can see that I’m not okay and I never was.