jaywritesandwrites

[jaywritesandwrites]

[jaywritesandwrites]

and very, very often, self care is not plants and ice rollers and fluffy blankets of peace.

it’s standing over your kitchen sink and crying while doing the dishes because you just want to go back to bed but the dishes need done. and you don’t know why you’re crying but you're trusting you need it. and you aren’t listening to the music that pulls you into a spiral; you’re listening to some cheerful shit your friend sent you. it’s getting up and staring at your fridge and closing your eyes and then cooking yourself food even though you hate it and it’s miserable. because you know that you’d cook for your friend, and you are trying to befriend yourself. it’s dragging yourself into the shower because you know you’ll feel better afterwards. it’s doing mundane tasks with patience, cursing under your breath, trying desperately to give yourself grace. grace is the beginning of care. care is the beginning of love.

we think it’s supposed to be peace and yet the most powerful self care moments are when we hate everything but especially ourselves. and life does not feel worth the loving. to look into that pain and yet choose to care for yourself in however many pieces you are — that is care. love. grace. trust. belief. it hurts because it’s love where there was no love before. it heals because it believes there will be love, one day, soon.

[jaywritesandwrites]

life has been happening to me

this is the part where the glass has water

it has been good

I'm grateful for it not being stuck anymore

it was worse before

this is the glass half full part

but everything is always out of my control

or my wishes, to be precise

life happens to me but not in the ways I'd like it to

I'm always catching up

to people, to life, to everything

and this, the half empty part, weighs on me

maybe we need to stand back

just be like

at least the glass has some water

and move on without thinking any more

maybe that is the way to a stress-free life

maybe I'll try it out for size

~ shreeya.

[jaywritesandwrites]

The fingers of our hands do not resemble each other, and brothers and sisters are often tempted to turn agains their own face. The tomb does not resemble the dead, and life does not resemble the living. But apple bloom, and an idea makes a mind. One tear of love tastes as one tear of hatred, the same cheek to round their elixir.

Pain and lottery, the chance of a night. Revenging me in your uniqueness, you are vowing for a dead. How much would a shard of glass would recognise from a mirror? Two frail lakes on a summer day, murmuring blindly through the blue distance, gazing vertically at the sky. I wish you the incomparable, for nothing gone astray in a wail of suffering can prove itself found in a reflexion of passion.

They say a dream cannot be fully fulfilled by the mind that dreams it. That’s how I know we are not sleeping the same sleep.

[jaywritesandwrites]

[jaywritesandwrites]

Visions of a Life

You pulled up a chair and poured me drink, I savored every drop of wine as I drown out chatter watching the lake angrily churn and clouds erupt in it's wake.

There are days I can feel my blood becoming stagnant as algae tangles itself around my sentimental veins.

My thoughts of you remain; a combination of sweet and sour, a bitter taste lingers as I travel the storm, swimming through every breaking wave.

[jaywritesandwrites]

[jaywritesandwrites]

femmedreams, 7/25/24

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[jaywritesandwrites]

Cruel

You looked and me and called me beauitful more times than I could count on both hands. Yet, you'd leave me in vain. Because you don't deem yourself worthy of love I'm willing to give. Because you're scared of being the monster that you are.

And so let it, I'll be the beauty facing the beast, the little hood facing the wolf, the princess facing the ogre. Turns out, we're more similar than we thought.

You looked at me and remind me how deserving I am of love that I can find elsewhere, anywhere far from you.

But why couldn't it just be you?

Because you're scared of tiring me out. And perhaps one day I will, but could you let me in? For once? You trust me, but you're still holding the key.

And it's fucking cruel we had to be here instead of where we're supposed to.

Maybe by the time we cross paths again, we're at different stages in life again. Maybe I'd no longer exist and disappear, maybe you're still here. Maybe I'll settle for someone who tolerates me with no love. When all I wanted was love with no tolerance.

Maybe you'll end up happier with someone more beautiful than I could ever be, and we'll be happy for each other by then. I'd convince myself it's a phase. You'd convince yourself you'll get over it.

And it'll pass. Whatever we have, it'll pass. And I hope to God, it doesn't. But writing this now is just proof that we will.

- n

Author's note:

I wrote this when I was falling deeply for someone I couldn't have. I was dealing with a lot of inner conflict and the person couldn't meet me half way. And posting this, is proof that we didn't make it. It's proof that my fears came true but even then, I chose myself instead of falling deeper. So that's that.

[jaywritesandwrites]

Untitled

I'd say we kissed

when all we did was

passed the cigarettes

that left your lips

- n

[jaywritesandwrites]

Lucid

A part of me wants to grow old and buy groceries with you. We'd make a list, and laugh at the non essentials. We'd host open houses to share our happiness with others.

They'd compliment the walls, I'd say we painted them. They'd compliment the food, you'd say we made them.

We'd share so much secrets, laughter, sadness and anger within the walls we call home. There would be times where our emotions consume us more than it should.

Yet, we'd never walk away because fear is what sets us apart. We'd hold each other's hand in attempts to soothe the other. The home is quiet but full. Full, because we filled the hole within ourselves and portrayed it on our walls.

You'd look at me and remind me to get soy milk instead of regular.

I'd laugh and remind you that we'd get it together,

So it doesn't really matter.

- n

[jaywritesandwrites]

Weapons

The words you use, they cut like knives.

It's true.

In the spur of the moment, it's like holding me at gunpoint.

"Say the right thing," or it'll scar forever.

Because words unknowingly stick better than actions. But actions speak louder than words.

Words are a reflection of one's character. What comes out of your mouth, it'll form a perception of yourself that doesn't exist.

If you tell me that I care too much,

or not at all

If you tell me that I'm too much,

or not enough

If you tell me I'm weak,

or incapable of being strong

If you tell me that I'm pretty,

but not beautiful

Which should I believe

- n

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