Redolence Of Regret

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

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)

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)

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)

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)

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)