Bored-frog - A Frog - Tumblr Blog

🖌️🪱Internally Dizzy🪱🖌️

Materials: Black paper and posca markers

✒️🎨Meaty Clutter🎨✒️

Materials: Sketchbook cover, brush pens, and posca markers

Dipping Into Restless Stupor

Every part of my body is frozen except for my Brain, slowly it comes to the realization that only half of us are awake, a panic builds its way through my system as stress begins to settle in; Sleep Paralysis, again.

Doing it's best, she tries to get everyone else to rise from their slumber, for what if she is the only one awake for the rest of their existence, what happens if the other members of this body don't get back up, would anyone on the outside of this begrudgingly resting form know of this motionless dilemma?

Looking around through closed eyes there are no demons glowering at her still feet, just the darkness hugging tighter as she begins to sweat, trying with all her muster to get any limb that she can to move an inch, any sign of life to ease her out of sleep; The true frightful sight.

It's very slow as rock like limbs do their best to glide across the sheets, each muscle taking their sweet time to untighten as they spark back to life, sluggishly fighting against the powerful tugs of slumber as she forces her body up, eyes dryly burning to return back to the land of dreams and subconscious thoughts that sneak their way inside; The true battle begins.

Without realizing it, her body slips back into the comforting yet fuzzy haze that leaves her Brain in a chaotic frenzy of fear, dragging each stem of creaky sweaty joints at an agonizingly listless pace, hyper focused and strangely aware of the empty blackness she resides in, feeling like an eternity while she finally pulls out of the dreary-warm-night-starry sludge with all of her might one last time; An accidental slip of consciousness.

- Autumn(Me)

09/20/2024

I want to start posting my art doodles and nonsense on here, sooooooo

I Present My Doodle, Chrysoprase

💕😩💕😩💕😩💕

As Well As My Other Doodle, Burning Pile

Redolence Of Regret

I like the scent of you lingering on me, coated in your sweat and mine, what an odd feeling, being tangled up in your essence, who would've thought I might have enjoyed such a cocoonly embrace from a stranger of delight dull touches and eyes that never stop staring no matter how much I look away; Or so I thought as my insides were an entangled twist of confusion, sensing that this picture just wasn't right.

I'm haunted by your scent, the date night aesthetic of cologne, ghosting through my nostrils as I try to forget you and the mixed up life lesson that you were, the nice smell makes me want to vomit as I get war flashbacks of your ever gazing peepers; Feeling like Akira as I beg to be left alone.

Your desires to be cute like the other people of society pushed me further away into the corner of your brother's couch, overbearingly cheesy in the most unattractive of ways, acting as if we're a couple, politely asking for a kiss from someone you haven't even known for a full week, as you ask me to look at you in those frightening eyes that never seem to close, attempting to guilt trip me with your self conscious fears of not being the prettiest dove amongst the majestic flock; Coming off far too strong with your “end goal.”

“Fuck you.”

I think that's all you ever really wanted to do with me, based on how quick and greedy you were to have me laying with you, your hands traveling over the body of someone you'll never have, thinking you're so sly and sweet; Sweating away in July.

“Are you okay with this?”

I said yes, told you that I didn't care to be in your embrace, but I think deep down in the slimy-sluggish-sensitive pit of whispered truths I fully did, it feels like an invisible boundary I wasn't entirely conscious of has been crossed, sending me in a downward spiralling loop; Curiosity encouraging and creating the discomfort as it whines for new distractions.

There is this area hidden away painted with your foot prints, it's a territory I wish I never let you dip into even if it wasn't sexually exposing, it's as if I did slide down each cloth and garment, revealing some foreign part of myself, leaving a sliver of me feeling not quite right amongst the remaining slices of my pan; Although I am uncomfortably tart and desolate, I can't solely put the blame on you, if I chose to explore.

-Autumn(Me)

09/02/2024

Unclear And Uncertain, Distressed Little Actor

My thoughts are cluttered, a mix of wants and needs, the desires of a dreamer clashing together with the realistic doubts of a pessimist, leaving me in a daze of hopeless fantasies as I waste away on my filthy mattress of hairy-stained-sweat; Time clicking by as she waits and watches.

“Where should I go? What should I do?”

I think and ponder instead of taking charge of my own life, pacing back and forth across the stage, fully understanding and confused that I am the lead in this play, but ignoring the fact that I am the writer, director, and crew as well; An original production called Carmen starring me.

“Where the hell is my script? How am I to know where to block?”

Instead of focusing on the production and all the behind the scenes work that must be done, I find myself captivated by the productions of others performed right a long side mine, lost in a jealous rage of mesmerization as I am dazzled away by their hard work and energy; Where do they find such dedication?

It seems at times that my play could never compare to theirs, take a look at those beautifully painted sets, each paint stroke tells a story somehow, remarkably handcrafted by deligent-independent-self-assured-calloused hands; Empty stares of the tools of potential, wastefully lying upon my vacant stage of possibilities.

Sleepless eyes burningly marvel as the deeply meaningful hues of light dance across each actor and set piece, how groundbreakingly perfect the way it all seems to align with their very essence, every color has a profound meaning that just brings the audience to tears, no real need for dialogue as you feel the story guide you along the stage with them, so powerful, this unspoken connection; Tearing apart another worthless-insufficient-insignificant script, scene by scene.

Lost between the edge of my delightful dreams and dreary doubts, I've twisted myself tightly in a stagnant web of indecision, stressing as time continues to flow even as I am stuck in my own shrill sticky threads of hopelessness, for I am both the spider and fly amongst these lines of thoughts, mashed together on a stage, as I close my eyes to imagine what could be if I detangled from this loud cluster of thoughts scorching my restless brain; Repeating this paradox that doesn't slow the clicks, as days turn into months of blissless slumber.

-Autumn(Me)

08/24/2024

Right All Along

Your words of supposed sincere honesty sit bitterly in my eyes, in my head, in my heart; Dissection of nothing.

“I'm sorry.”

You are sorry, so cowardly sorry for yourself that you're man enough to type out a text for me, dripping with just enough and so little that it passes off for a genuine explanation and peaceful exit for yourself; Thank you for your time and showing me the teeny ounce of care and respect you had all along for me, how considerate.

I'm glad that you're man enough to just cut me loose instead of continuing to lead me on through your sudden distance that I'm not blind from seeing, that you're no longer playing it off as being busy, but laying it down bare as not wanting me, instead of continuing to talk out of a pitiful obligation of fake interest and self guilt; It's nasty but true.

Something that you waited days after dinner to confess to me through a screen, when we both knew right then and there you didn't want to ever sit across from me at another table again, that very same night when the air between you and I became cold because you're a spineless little bitch who buys flowers for every whore you see after dark it would seem; Far too mad and clingy for your liking.

My smile clearly not special or working for you anymore, just as crooked and goofy as your long forehead of deceit, it begins to spin itself down at the very thought of you and your existence, every sweet or funny occurrence once looked upon fondly now slowly decaying beneath my ribs as it hollows itself in as it heaves, because I am a jackass who never learns, and you are a dick who knew all along that you had no time to fart around with me, but yet we both indulged; Tell me why that is, Darling?

I honestly wish we never met, wish my sister didn't love me to the point that she’d introduce us, that she wouldn't have my back like that when I tell her that I think that this guy is very pretty, wish that I kept my interest to myself so that we didn't have to go our separate ways; Crying over a heartache of nothing.

I have no direct response back to you and your text, only these words of insanity and sour nothings, because I was foolish enough to have feelings for a boy, a boy who is still young and lost, who isn't ready for a heart that's two sizes too mature; I too type things out like a coward.

The poor little guy is just as ugly on the inside as his truck is on the outside; Full slander of the broken blazer of dreams.

We should go our separate ways, you have a life, so flooded that you can not fit me in your tight schedule of nothing, I have a life, so chaotic yet I wanted to make time for you for nothing, you've upset me and pissed me off even if I haven't gifted you with such feelings, and I'm not sorry because I don't feel sorry for myself like you do for yourself; Complete agreeance.

- Autumn(Me)

08/09/2024

Lying Within Her Nudity, There Is Truth

I don't think you want me, just my body, the parts of me that leak in horniness, apparently; Art of sin.

It's painted everywhere, her ache for warm saliva, bare skin sweating against yours, quivering in 50 ropes of lust; Her inner desires so obvious to the predatory eyes of the perceiver.

There is no more meaning behind her work, behind her eyes, alongside the curves of her awkward-plump-tiny form, just snake your way into her mouth, underneath all her clothes, it's what you really want.

Fingers circle and glide, traveling wherever they so please, moving her legs, bringing her closer so that you may feel the pleasures of heated close proximity; The touch starved boy has got to eat.

The amount of strength in your lingers, as the pressure of your intentions rests upon her weaker wrists, has never made her want to ignore the little gnawings and cravings for romantic human contact more than ever; Preferably starving and waiting for the right meal, Goldilocks.

I can not bring myself to want you, to lie to myself to not hurt the hearts of others, to hold your gaze, all so that you may slowly place your ashy fruit scented lips against my dry ones, to allow my fingers to explore the damp pores of your skin; Rushed and one sided.

I don't think I want you, just some space, the whole and broken parts of me that need to be alone and breath, apparently; Art of feminine beauty and personal grief.

-Autumn(Me)

07/17/2024

Sweat Locked Exhaustion

Run your fingerprints all along my sticky pores, feel the stench dive deep within your divots and grooves, let it clench and coil along your bones; Filthy.

Glistening in a saucy sweat, dripping down from her dry silky scalp all the way to the foul smelling toes, curling at the sight, isn’t she gorgeous?

Never have you been faced with such a familiar dreadful aroma, so intoxicating the way it stings as it clings, hooking in sharply as it begins rooting itself deeper within the murky funky mold of her mind; Fungus of empty thoughts.

Spores open to breathe, only to find no air in their home, baking to a crisp inside her dome, glued down tight, entirely one with the oldeny-fresh-gunky dust of jaded silence; Fully nestled in.

Glide down tenderly as you get stuck in the puddles of dressings and every other disgusting thing that has latched onto her tired skin, circling through every dry sticky patch as you try not to barf, take it all in, inhale deeply as you do your best to pull yourself together; Exhausted and teary eyed.

Get down on your knees my sweet little sheep, bare down on my rotten selfish core, lick it all up, all the dirt and grim, between each crack and crease, exfoliate me until I’m nothing but a hollow shell; Dirty.

-Autumn(Me)

4/27/2024

Empathic Forecast

How are you able to detect the cloudy thoughts brewing away inside the roof of my skull?

You look over at me, as I try my best to hold it all in, the storm of my emotions shifting in the ever changing ether, peering straight through my mask, and wanting me to unsheath the tiny trinkles of rain until I’ve flooded you with all of my internal burdens; Strange interest in how I am feeling.

I lack the understanding of why you even care if I need an umbrella, let alone yours.

And yet here you are, extending a hand to me, a little-smoky-callused hand that I can not take, for I am a masochist who likes to suffer alone in the hurricane that thrashs through me; Stubbornness at its finest.

My shell is prickly and avoidant, locking me in tightly, keeping everyone out and at an invisible distance, for she can not seem to do it, just unlock this heavy door she's bolted herself behind, let in the people who seem to care, it just doesn't seem quite right, allowing guests into her private quarters; Keeping the storm on her side, all to herself.

“You seem off.”

I am, off in my head, dancing to songs, thinking of the things I’d like to create, making movie references only my family knows, replaying the ever insulting jokey words that have disrupted the version of me that you see, the side of me that has to recover in the back in silence, while also remaining present in the public, she gets wounded easily by the insulting assumptions blown her way.

“Just tired.”

Tired of this weather.

It's a mystery to me how you seem to pick up on it so quickly, my mood disturbance, my sudden hyper focus on tedious mundane tasks must give it away, who stares so distantly at a dirty tray anyway?

Why do you even want to know, Weather Boy?

- Autumn(Me)

Pull Me Another

Wobbly resting in her pink slimy gingiva, a snake slithers by crooked teeth, sliding over the thin line that keeps them hooked in and from falling free; Oh, how she aches and yearns to be torn straight out.

The unexplainable urge to disconnect each one from inflamed gums itches through her short slender phalanges, it would appear this disturbing odd compulsion has beaten her sound normal logic; Impulse running wild.

Her hand intrudes upon her crowded mouth, slowly pulling out cavity infested molars, one rotten dental tissue at a time, a sticky icky suctioning pop as each little tooth detaches with ease, unhooked at last; Loosely stressed and dreaming.

Licking up the metallic ooze, as my tongue glides over the wounds, delighted yet frightened by the aftermath of curious fingers fiddling around with limp wiggly smile bones; Is this real?

What has she done?

A horrified tongue dribbled with regret rakes over her strange craving of work, dipping into the bloody holes and the leftover shards of what used to carry and be her uneven grin; They’ll grow back, right?

-Autumn(Me)

Confidential Favoritism

I wish I didn’t have a heart, that this loud organ would stop swelling up with an overwhelming care and deep interest for her world and the people who surround it; Craving hollow blissful silence.

How do you do it, walk around so casually nonchalant, dust puffing out from your skin as mine secretes with oozing-nervous-eager sweat, my heart smashing up against my meaty ribcage as you ignore me; Non-mutual gaze.

Locking myself in tightly to these black fuzzy cuffs, grinning as they strangle the veins of my pride, impatiently awaiting the attention of a big loser, savoring each fiery shot you sharply spit back, loving the way it spills from your darkly distant digits; New twisted leash.

It’s cold and quiet, this lobby you leave me to sit in for hours, twiddling thumbs as I look for my favorite pair of eyes, jealously tired when I read they’ve wandered off to other harlots tied around your pretty pink leashes, I fiddle with the collar questioning it all, and yet the moment you walk in you set pants passionately ablaze, happily wagging my tail as you give me my 30 minutes of fun; Your secret wish, maybe even mine.

Of all the whores in my collection on the internet, you set my skin burning in the brightest of rosey leaky flames, my cheeks flushing the shiest of pinks as I bite down onto my dry lips, chewing on the peels of red bloody flesh, fighting back a big dorky smile, because you’re secretly my favorite hoe, the best tool in my fluorescent shed; A cheesy disgusting truth from the long dirty sleeve of my artery clogged heart.

So different from every single one, the way you speak to me only further intriguing my annoying interest in you, for you are not a sweet little gummy bear, fully willing to gift me picnic baskets upon picnic baskets of sugary compliments, no, you are a deliciously-salivating-sour gummy worm, wiggling through with banter filled soil as you wriggle your way up my thoughts; Picking rude Sour Patch Kids over kind Skittles.

As my tongue waters and pinches, my heart shaped boat sinks down knowing that you do not feel these extremely insane overbearing rotten feelings, for I am delusional as I suck and lick away all the addictive candies you tease me with, stubbornly returning for more neglectful tricks and treats from your beautiful brown orbs; Stupidly entranced by the grumpiest of hoes.

Was this fun and creative enough for you, captivatingly entertaining, border line insane, my liege?

- Autumn(Me)

New Bird, Same Song

Good morning, oblivious bright bird, blissfully blind to my feelings, to my silence.

You flew right into my hands, singing an annoyingly cute tune, convincing me that I was beautiful, tweeting on and on how you want to fly around, wing to wing with me; A tired old tune of lies and disinterest manipulating a gullible heart.

A fool who never learns, always she repeats this lesson, the way she smiles as her young snotty heart bleeds, so disgustingly enjoyable; A masochist down on her creaky knees kissing fists of make-believe roses.

These thorns disguised as honey soaked green tea leaves, soaking beneath rotten pores, so sweetly bitter this game, this decaying plant upon the garden of possibilities; Endless crushes.

She mourns the death of this little sprout, for this one had the best smile, but beneath its young roots were nothing but weeds, poisoning her fertile soil of love, making her gag in guilt and shame; Uprooting a ghostly invasive green.

Goodbye, silly boy.

- Autumn(Me)

No, God No

Perfectly written words to represent how she feels gone, erased, typed out raw thoughts Thanos snapped away in a blink, as if they were never real.

A new kind of pain washes over her, frustrated thumbs poking down something different because of one little slip of a button; Forever dead and gone are the thoughts she originally desired to share.

Once wearing the mask of a depressed jester, now adorning the face of a pissed off poet, upset over the unsaved thoughts plucked from a heartfelt brain of misery, planting seeds of unsavory anger into the gardens of the Internet instead; Tears of aggravation.

She's a goddamn fool for wanting to let her emotions naturally guide the flow of her work, a fucking moron whose illustrations and reflections have been refreshed off her screen, vanishing into the void of forgotten blurs.

"I can't believe you've done this."

Truly, she can not.

Sighing in disbelief over a fear, something she thought was silly to be afraid of happening, stupidly lucky once, her ass was saved one time and she mistakingly took it for granted instead of as a warning of what would come to never be if she was not careful; A lesson through accidents.

Forever no more, her unfinished poem of truthful thoughts that were stripped away of the meat that gave it life, shall now lay rest in the graveyard of Drafts, never to be touched again; Endlessly mourned bones of what could have been.

Another tack to add onto her list of regrets, never forgetting to kick herself down over this large L she never meant to bite into; Another thought to keep her awake at night.

She loved you which is why she is so upset over your disappearence, you were beautiful and meant the world to her, in her teary eyes you had a bright future ahead of you; Suddenly, no one.

I will never be able to re-create nor replicate the masterpiece that was you, my love.

- Autumn(Me)

Fake Laughter

Words are like punches, fists of heavy stone plummeting down deep onto my heart; Delicious pinkish-red, blue veined pancake.

She has the tendency to let them knock her down hard, bawling up in an aura of despair; Sensitive tears spilled upon her pale-brown cheeks throughout her whole existence.

Unable to control the way it torments her inner sticky cavities, she cries in pain and guilt.

A burning dark pit forms in the center of her chest, making her want to vanish, never to have existed, undo any wrong she has caused, shrivel up from life and the confusing feelings that leave her soul spinning as it twists and snaps; Dwelling on every little thing.

Her tiny brain is an ugly-nasty-bitter-gray-mattered-self-conscious-conniving bitch, who holds onto every sentence that has ever forced it's way through her emotional chambers; Spiteful organ of control.

Betraying eyes reveal the way you've carved in with venomous vocable, as she beats you until you're physically hurt, an array of purple-red-black-and-blue, the only pain that she knows how to administer to recover from her mental bruising; Emotional loss.

Crumbling down, making a huge mess on the counter, a chipped baby, cracked up cookie sinking down low in the tall milk glass of criticism, pathetically crying, disintegratingly soaked; Did the mouse ask for a side of stricture as well?

She apologizes for her obstreperous heaving, as she ignores the pit that tugs on the string of her gushing-gooey-leaky guts; The thin tethering strand that yanks up insides from an achy-retched-endearing place called "Love."

- Autumn(Me)

Mysterious Congenial Hand

Bladed butterfly wings neatly tucked into the palm of an unknown adherent of art and almost whatever the ungraceful jester decides to embarrass herself with publicly; Likes from a stranger.

A mutual sharing of companions, and yet she hasn't a clue of the identity of this "follower," whose thumb is tapping away in support of her artistic nonsense.

"Who, are, you," a great question once asked by a wise-perfectly-sized-blue caterpillar who smoked quite often, suffocating-colorful-cloudy puffs of inquisitions float about my head, as I sit and ponder in my own Wonderland; Alice grows curiouser and curiouser.

Her eyes light up at the sight of a tiny-electronic-red heart on a piece that few spare a glance for, words and pictures squeezed fresh from the sweaty tube of her vulnerable heart, she dances in excitement while Pride inflates her massive balloon of ego; Overjoyed to have her creations seen.

Although she knows not who you are, nor if you truly do like all that your hidden peepers of an anonymous shade view through your screen, she appreciates the possibility that you do in fact genuinely enjoy her mad inventions of art, cooked up hot and ready upon the slab of her wild imagination; Thank you, loyal customer.

- Autumn(Me)

A Game Of Eye Contact

Nervously, her eyes avert from looking your way, only gifted a sliver of a glimpse as you turn away from her; Liking what I don't see.

She is terrified of starting the game, locking eyes with a beautiful stranger, what happens when you win?

Who is the prize?

A rush of red hot panic blares through her eagerly frantic system as she tries to calculate every possible repercussion; Overthinking, her best attribute.

Her gears creak and screech, overrun and burnt, as her imagination swims in a sweaty pool of fictional scenarios; Chaotically disorganized, the awkward-shy-ambiverted Daydreamer drifts.

Confused by the back and forth notes passed between her plump form and jittery spirit, she displays the oddest cues and signs, the air between the two players becoming unreadable; Mixed Messages.

Are they even playing?

Is she in or out?

(Internal Questions and Fears).

Her mind is unable to apply it's make-up, where is it to even begin, what will it wear?

As tempted as she may be by the gentle Pink Boy of Flowers, Hesitancy is quick to stop the weird Turquoise Beast from running along to play in the field of soft spoken lilies; Considering the odds from every single angle, a few more times.

The hopeless romantic fidgets above the buttons, timid-antsy-inexperienced fingers dance along the colorful knobs, her quarter moist and warm as it rests in her anxious little palms, brown marbles rake over the flashing arcade machine screen; "Push start to begin."

- Autumn(Me)

Welcoming In The "Best" Company

She craves this, shamefully begs for it, clattering down onto her creaky knees, a feeling of being forgotten, miserable, and empty; Drinking it down like water, gasping in distaste for the woman in the mirror.

What the fuck is wrong with her?

Chaotically distraught, disoriented by this disturbing hunger; She enjoys this?

Living in the shadows, misplaced, yet fond fingers brushing upon her bitter skin; Loving bright hands in every direction but never spotlighting on her.

Slithering in the grainy darkness, tear burnt eyes watch in anticipation, eager to see what will happen, where this chapter shall drop her and the other characters; Fucked up indulgence.

She's twisted, a fucking hypocrite, babbling through snotty snobs and sniffles, how she "hates this feeling," yet she's got a craving for all this drama; Sickly appetite of a crybaby coward, licking at her dry lips.

Why would she relish any of this, desiring for it all to go wrong?

She's afraid of Happiness, of falling in love with her, only for her to be ripped away from moist-clammy-blistered digits; A loss she's grown accustomed to.

It's easier, she likes the warm-cold embrace of Despair, as he lights up a cigarette, taking what he wants, discarding her naked shell onto the street, leaving her to crumble down; Freezing alone with no clothes to cover her shame.

Slowly regluing herself, rising onto scrapped up bones, beginning to trek up the dusty road to where she should be (with her true lover, Happiness), only for him to come back, caressing her brain, internally tearing her up (again and again).

How orgasmic, the way her tears keep coming every single time; One night stand after one night stand, her only relationship and release.

The gross whore is sorry; Not an apology, simply an excuse of being.

- Autumn(Me)

Empty Slots 4 Rent

Spoiled-bitter-bloody liquid oozing from the holes that once held teeth, leaking down into the depths behind, a throat that chokes on chemical red, she smiles as the bile floods her lungs; Enriched within.

She awakes in a puddle of metallic drool, sticky and dirty, drizzled all over her cheek, staining her pillow, running deep within old tarnished fabrics, her tongue explores the dry cave from which her crooked teeth reside, the meaty flesh scrapes up against the hard enamel, bewildered by the lack of moisture; She did not sleep well.

The wisest of smile bones neatly plucked and cleanly sliced, two freshly shattered, two perfectly intact, stored away in plastic, a bag now holding wisdom of 18 years hidden inside the box of a dancer who no longer spins, shut safe and tight, cluttered behind the door of her closet.

What wisdom do they hold?

The four have sat up in her skull, awkwardly shifting and twisting their pointy roots in her jaw, growing with her, only to be removed; Years of observation taken.

"You raised them."

In the oddest way, I have indeed raised them, only for them to be discarded into a box of memories, their service not required by man for some time now; An unexpected Mother sends her boys off.

Poor children, all alone, separated from their siblings and family, left to collect dust and whatever bacteria flourishes in the space of their new home, it must be so lonely, so difficult to get used to their new microscopic neighbors; Missing impacted dental tissues.

My children left me with no wise words or lessons, instead they leave me, their mother, in pain, ghostly little fists punching at gums, bruising teeth, puffing up her cheeks, leaving her to sleep it all off; Recovery hurts.

Odd, such a strange feeling, my tongue slithers to the back, finding nothing, no one is there, only stitches and a pool of minty spiked saliva, the most disgusting tartness.

Although they left her in an irritating state of uncomfortable affliction, she misses them, it's vacant, quiet, no longer loud and jam packed, her rude children are gone, family photos at the dentist no longer the same, for there are four empty rooms in the back, where her babies are no longer.

- Autumn(Me)

Born and Raised

When I blew up at you, I was unable to properly express myself and how I felt, I let my anger take over, causing another drift between us because I can not be mature and maintain all the feelings coursing through me, ready to leap out of the prison that is my skin.

You don't know how guilty I feel for yelling, for arguing with you over something like this, a topic so delicate and important, I deeply apologize.

I am emotionally stubborn, everything I feel is felt strongly, nothing is half-assed inside my heart, which is why I'm so upset.

I understand that we walk in different shoes through life, you didn't ask for your pair and I didn't ask for mine, you don't know the pebbles and splinters tightly strapped beneath the material of mine, I don't know the full extent of what goes on beneath the surface of your socks and laces, but sometimes I feel that you judge me, that you compare yours to mine and get hostile with me because I must be walking on a fucking cloud; Appearances deceive.

When the world is throwing shit, you don't have to throw it at me too, I am not your enemy, I do not view you as less than, so why does it feel like you look down in disgust at me for the things I have no control over?

I feel positively shitty, I must be the dirtiest asshole bundled up in name brand toilet paper, right?

"You don't understand, but you can empathize."

=

"You'll never fucking understand, but I'm sure you can imagine the dirty caked up shit path I'm forced to walk through, while you glide through in a carriage you don't even have to work harder than everyone else to earn, don't insult me and say you do, how the fuck could you possibly get it?"

I hate it when you do that, when you say that, I am not riding on some high and mighty horse, my situation is just different, it's so god damn infuriatingly-annoyingly-frustratingly unfair when you do that, when you compare the two, it's as if I'm getting the biggest scowl from you every single time you bring it up; A "snobby brat" whining about her basket of lemons to an "untouchable."

I get nasty, snippy, and rude because of this sneering chokehold in the air between us when talks of the future is brought up, I dread the conversation every time, I don't want to discuss any of it, about me and "oh the places I can go," I try to give you hope and you roll your eyes at me, scoffing.

I'm a pretentious dick wasting the privilege I walk around with, this prized gift, this golden ticket that I want nothing more than to toss out because it feels awful to have; A worthless piece of shit wins the lottery but spends her life watching TV, a fucking insult.

I don't like the way you mentally side eye me, as the clock of aging ticks, you get more and more passively bitter with me, I uncomfortably twiddle my thumbs, wanting nothing more than to deal you a new hand of cards, for Life is a terrible dealer.

I understand and empathize that the fissured road you walk on isn't easy, nothing about the journey is brisk and fun, that it feels so demeaning, and that you have put in all your efforts alone as ungrateful assholes with birth rights and money drive around and honk at you, that they view you as this dirty dog beneath them, but don't look over and assume that mine must be a fucking breeze.

My cracked piece of opaque rubble carries it's own challenges, ones that I do not share, I sweat and moan in silence on this bumpy ass path, I trip and stumble, mentally scuffed and bruised as I force myself to keep going further down, I want to just stop dead in this traffic, shriveling up into a pathetic ball of tears, because I too am dealing with my own shit and it's not fucking easy, but you make me feel like it's nothing, that I couldn't possibly have problems.

I know you don't believe it, but I fully believe things are going to work out for you, right now it just feels like some asshole has set your lawn of potential on fire, I promise you it will get better, you are strong and beautiful, I know it feels like the world is against you, that no one is on your team, I am there, I'm the weirdo cheering and rooting for you from across the street, who will help you put out the fire.

With mastering the toughest task of patience, I assure you things are going to work out, that you are cable of so much more than what people assume based off of looks because they are jackasses living in the past, so please, have faith, don't lose hope in your future, and I beg of thee, stop telling me I don't understand, because I do, because I understand you.

- Autumn(Me)

Progress

As I scroll through my gallery, it finally shifts into focus just how far I've come with the love for my physical features; Admiration for one's own exterior.

When I was younger I hated the way I appeared in the mirror, my eyes and nose scrunched up at the hideous creature that frowned back at me, she made me want to vomit all over the sink, whenever we lock eyes now, I want her by my side, for she is stunning, I am mesmerized by myself; Growth.

Everything about me was a flaw, a mistake I did my best to cover up and hide, it felt safe and comfortable to be wrapped up in layers; Years of oversized-sweat-soaked hoodies.

I used to burn up underneath the thick fabric, afraid everyone would see the hairy-manly-wolf arms protecting my skin, anytime I rolled up my sleeves to cool off my unshaven limbs, someone would stare or state the obvious to me; Fear over natural human features.

With jealous rage, I watched as every other person paraded about in beautiful clothes, materials that wonderfully showed off the eye catching features I neither had or felt I carried, a watery fire bursting when hearing them get called pretty or asked out; Wanting to wear their irresistible shoes over my own, to feel attractive by the public.

Tears of aggravation pouring down, as everyone I used to want made me feel ugly for looking the way I do, I felt foolish in my large cloak of safety for even thinking they would want this, an oily beast who offered nothing for them to gawk at; A young fool liking the wrong people.

As I sit and analyze my journey out of the security cocoon that I spun myself into, I am truly proud of the butterfly that emerged from what she thought was her home, she is so lucky those pest she used to desire did not see her true worth tucked away behind what they viewed as merily muck.

Although she slouches, she stands as tall as her little legs allow, finally smiling in pictures, enjoying the photoshoots she spends hours taking, giggling and blushing over herself for once, gawking over the outfits she never would have worn trapped in her overheated blankets of protection; Crushing on me.

I have tossed out the piles of meekness that clogged up my self image, making room for vanity to decorate the space, she carries an ego with appreciation for every part of me, even though my huge-ass-four-finger-length forehead has grown a bit, it feels rather nice to have pride to be me, which is quite new; Cheering for team us, Me-Myself-& the one and only...I.

Thank you to the ones who saw the enchanting jester nervously hiding behind the curtains, afraid to go out on stage and be poorly judged by the audience surrounding her; Gifting her with inspiration.

She is more than grateful that her favorite supporters encouraged her to step out of her opaque shell, freeing herself of the gown of shame that she used to cling on for shelter, exposing a gorgeous goddess who looks enchanting yet quite silly, for she proudly gazes upon the crowd dawning her favorite facial expression; A dumbass whose face goofily contorts, her thin eyebrows smashing together, as she either purses her lips out or sucks them in pridefully with confidence over her unique exterior.

"I love you, you're total babe inside and out, always coming up with the oddest jokes that make me crack a smile even if it does not land with your crowd a hundred percent of the time, you're my favorite comedian and artist." - Me to Me.

- Autumn(Me)

An Unspoken Secret Yearning To Escape

There are words resting in my throat, choking me, wanting to be let out.

I'm scared of the aftermath that will come if I raise the volume of my thoughts; Purposefully unplugging my earbuds to let you all hear for yourselves.

What if you leave me?

What if you hear my disgusting thoughts and think me an ass?

You take each shakey pitch with venom as you clog up your eardrums; Perfectly placed cotton swabs.

If I don't speak up, I fear the worst, I teeter on the seesaw of internal death, the death of us.

But what if I said it all and things changed, it brings us closer, maybe carving open my mind wouldn't be so bad?

But I'm petrified that you're going to yell and take everything side ways, that you will think it all to be blame and slander; "A huge slap in the face to everything you've ever done for me, for us."

I hate bottling everything up in fear, I too am a hoarder, one of a different nature.

I just truly don't know how to fix us, I know there's a way, I just don't know which wire is the right one; Which one will cause us not to blow up and die?

I'm a coward who doesn't want to be the one to do it, to cut the wire that could help us heal, together.

My chest caves in at the thought of being abandoned for unshedding my tears; Opening up years of bottled anguish.

I'm just so tired, it hurts to see everyone suffering around me on mute, and I honestly don't like the thoughts that have been dashing around my head, they hold a knife up to my existence and whisper awful things; A twisted way of coping and solving everything.

What do I do, what do I say?

How do I keep us all together without you walking off into your mountainous forest of solitude?

Silently I weep at the thought of our band finally breaking up, each member angrily heading off in a different direction, walking home the true family way; Sitting alone in a quiet garage of abandoned-dusty-unique instruments.

Through tears I let the gentle melodies of our songs wash over me, it's torture to listen to my favorite hits alone, each memory bouncing off the lonely walls of my heart.

We don't need to crack and float away, there is no need to become Pangaea; Wait, just wait, I swear there's glue in this drawer or maybe...it's this one?

Will I raise the volume to my wellkept thoughts?

Clear my throat, raise my head up high, fixing my posture(for once), looking you each in your intimidating marbles, 3 pairs of brown and the lil odd man with the beautiful green orbs dancing in a mixture of many lovely shades, and release a tiny roar for your huge four-finger-lengthed foreheads to acknowledge?

No.

No, I will not be doing any of that, at least not with my voice, for my skills in writing far exceed the ones in speaking; Written material from the fierce-short-inner Centaur smoothly typed out as her tongue undoes a multitude of knots.

I spill to you this, my droplets of truth; A taste of the secret feelings I have imprisoned inside the dark shelves holding a fine collection of tightly sealed bottles within my heaving lungs.

Told to you through the freeing art of poetry; The Centaur is shy, having little experience in the domain of sharing and talking about the arrows currently kissing her skin, they've rested there for years, the blood has dried and dipped into her unwashed pores.

I am lost, searching for the safest way to pick out the splinters we have rooted deep within our skin; She doesn't know what to do, panicking under this overwhelming presence of frosty distance, stressful tears brimming the corners of her eyes.

How do I fix this?

Will sharing any of this help?

There are words scratching on the gummy insides of my throbbing neck, screeching to be freed, wanting to mix and mingle with the sounds of life, it kicks and strangles me, turning me green and blue, for I wish to vomit them loose on the carpet of our home, but I'm scared of the mess it shall truly make if I were to yack it all up for once.

- Autumn(Me)

Distant Shift On Jupiter

For the first time in years, you have shut me out of whatever you're doing in life, to say a pit did not drop heavily in my stomach would be a lie; Because.

I understand we are two separate beings, living our own lives, following different journies through an existence we cry over from time to time, but usually you are the most open person I know; Never hiding yourself away in a beaten box, tucked behind the dust of an attic.

Is it me?

Have we grown apart?

I'm overreacting, I know, but...this is so unlike you, I am baffled, completely taken back by your strange new silence.

Am I stupid to be hurt by such a small lack of information from you?

Yes...but I am.

You always tell me about your fear of us separating, of me departing from our 8-9 years of companionship, but dearest friend, it is I who is the most frightened; Afraid you'll leave.

One day you'll see me for the lazy-ugly-twisted asshole I am, tired of how I keep everything locked tightly in, angry over everything I did when we were younger; My greatest fear.

So silly, these pits I feel hollowing inside of my bones.

They keep appearing, each one getting harder to walk off; Offended by life.

I'm sorry; Not an apology, just a sorry excuse for a friend(Me).

It's amazing, your independence is stunning, you glow brighter everyday, you do not need me, I am but a heavy chain, weighing you down, far from reach of the magnetic fruits of life; Selfishly holding on, keeping you to myself.

Release the bugs you catch, they are living just as you, each a vibrant shade of stories; No you are not a bug, but a wonderful person in my life.

This is not me passing you the salt, this is me sharing the seasoning leaking through my eye sockets, the dumb feelings I do not share; Pathetically childish.

You don't have to tell me, you are allowed to keep things to yourself, just as I, I'm just a giant nose who wants to sniff around whatever you do not wish for me to smell; Curiosity inhaling it's way through private cords.

- Autumn(Me)

Final Outcome

I knew, I was fully aware that you were not genuine, that I was going to be left alone, crying as I crawl on the floor, moaning through every ache, while sticky-gooey-embarrassing-snotty tears coat my face, feeling another soul crushing emptiness from someone new; Being right from the start.

Logically, I understand that it never would have worked for us, from the very beginning you were already hurting me, making me feel awful and appreciated at the same time, such a dirty trick; My emotions refused to acknowledge this helpful honesty.

You're so different from every other person I've ever clutched onto to an interest for, you "actually" held onto your very own interest in me, in us, in the beautiful bud I wanted nothing more than to blossom, blooming bright on a decaying earth; Another fantasy I let take over.

It's so ironic that I tossed out one boob, only to meet another; Boobie and Boober.

You saw the crack in my armor, one of many I try to hide, you snuck in, sinking your sharp fangs onto a naked sheep, you never had to do that to her, she would have gifted you with everything; Rubbing your dirty paws on the doormat that is my heart.

Every word I wrote for you was true, I made them each because I wanted to show you how wonderfully confused you made me, how I enjoyed the way you deliciously twisted up my insides from the deep dark depths of my gushing organs; Falling too hard, fully ready to plummet into a filthy-messy-meaty pancake.

I painted you the picture I envisioned every night when we talked, a piece so personal from the love that gets taken advantage of, you saw my canvas of truth and didn't bat an eye as you lit it on fire, leaving me to watch as you tied me up to a tree and vanished; A fool who was too vulnerable too soon.

In our final moments, I did anything and everything I could to not end it, but you...you did not, you did not try for me, I wanted to talk it all through because you were hurting me and I didn't understand why, you looked at me with pure disgust as I told you through cracked tears how painful it feels, the way you were mentally fucking me up.

Why?

Why would you do this to me?

Why would you pretend to give a damn about someone who is already broken?

Actions truly are louder than words, my actions screamed from collapsing lungs, it could be heard all throughout my encased home of love, shaking rooftops, but yours? I laugh like a maniac at what you decided to do, the choice you made to protect yourself and destroy the enchanting-caring-lovely gifts I had to offer.

Yours told me the very thing I did not want to believe, the inner voice inside did her best to warn me, I should have listened, but instead I welcomed in harshly-cold-bitter vile spat at from an angry man who hides himself well; A lesson I'll always repeat...it seems.

Through a burning-blurry-heaving haze, shakey hands take hold of the cruel tether that linked us, painfully slow, I begrudgingly begin to shred each fiber, completely tearing myself of the overwhelming string I used to gaze upon fondly; Separation...once again.

I'll miss you, even though you do not reciprocate the mushy feeling, I'll look at the time and think of everything we shared, the beautiful flower that could have grown, but I'll accept that this was how we were meant to end, that you were no good for me, and I carried nothing you would have really wanted, I was just a tempting craving you swirled around your sharp tongue; Mourning through acceptance, maturity.

Goodnight, Boober.

- Autumn(Me)