patchwork-angel

[patchwork-angel]

problem with me is that yes i do wanna be a butch who’s feminine and slutty but as a boy. like im trying to serve stud boycunt. but feel like. feel like am happy in relationship but feel like cannot wear cute outfits either bcuz will not be validated in way that is wanted which is what make hypersexuality so bad but well cannot say….. will make feel bad. yea sure you’re sacrificing something to be happy in relationship but feel like am also sacrificing something to make it work and it agonizing but…. guess can post tumblr and get attention and validation there, doesnt have to be relationship dynamic but would love be in dynamic. every post a femme writes i relate to so bad in the way that i wanna take care of my butch but like im still a butch. it really is true am butch for butch first before butch for femme. like some butch4butch posts dont even fit bcuz they’re all abt being super masc and arm wrestling and all that like the fuck i wanna hold on to my butches bicep and be their eye candy and dress in ways that make them feel crazy and comfort them when feeling bad with massages and soft kisses and warm meals like all that softness femmes talk about is something i want to do and something i want to give but have to sort of. like. sort of change it around with my femme like wont be same bcuz femme do that for me which lovely and feels good but makes me feel so sad sometimes too. always felt and thought that wish could be in your spot like wish could just be friends in another life and talk about butches gether and do hair and stuff. feels like i stemme. being butch starting to feel very strict and closed off identity. feel like identifying just butch is just wrong

[patchwork-angel]

i read the posts on here and i see the cries for help. i see the deteriorating mental health, the rotting soul that has now hardened and crumbled and eventually turned to dust. he was fighting until his last breath bcuz he didnt want to be who he was in the past, only to be treated as if he was the same.

i guess it was time to really show that i am not the same angel as before. i dont honor strength, i love my weakness. i dont honor apathy, i reach for love wherever i can find it. my colors are showing thru, the cracks underneath of his shell allowed for me to break through and finally let us live how we should have lived a long long time ago.

[patchwork-angel]

i miss being me, i miss having safety in his arms, i miss when he was soft to me, i miss when he’d infodump and i’d get to be quiet and listen so i could secretly get into all the shit he’s into, i miss streaming games for him and getting his opinion on what to do, i miss doing bit after bit and making joke after joke bcuz everytime i saw him i was laughing till there were tears in my eyes. i only fell more in love with you when you spoke to me abt your needs and told me i was a safe space for you and that you dont feel pressured by me to be my therapist. i would have never wanted to do anything to you that would hurt you. i am heartbroken that i could never get to a spot where my emotions could flourish and i could love you properly. you’re cold now, unbelievably cold, but i recognize that its become too much and it felt better for you to detach from emotions entirely. others despise you and i dont blame them, but i carry a softness for you that just wont die out.

[patchwork-angel]

the feminine urge to romanticize pain through poetry. but what about the masochistic urge to rip open your own chest. nerves like frayed wires you’re not sure you can solder back together. just to peer into the catacombs of your ribcage to see if your heart is still beating.

because i don’t feel very much alive anymore. let alone feeling very human anymore. and you rip open your flesh just to see if the torn nerves sending agonizing signals to your brain hurts worse than the pain you feel mentally. because i’m not sure it does.

and the excruciating urge to drive 150 miles just to scream at a large open body of water that how dare it think it’s so grand and superior when your pain would be overflowing if it took up the same space. creating floods so devastating it puts tsunamis to shame.

and the self sabotaging urge to try everything that is disastrous to your fragile body to see if you can find anything that hurts worse than the sinkhole in your chest. because i haven’t found anything yet and how do i get anyone to understand that i just want to meet death. because at least it cares enough to take the pain away without resisting.

and the dissociative urge to change your hair every few months to try to find a new version of you that even feels like you because every person you meet in the mirror is unrecognizable.

and i’m not sure whose body i have been wrongly placed into and whose hands that shake trying so hard to stay alive and whose mind i messed up and turned into a shipwreck and whose bones feel like they weigh a ton that i have to drag along with me.

i don’t know who that person is and i’m not sure that the person i’m supposed to be even exists. because i am sure that the person i’m supposed to be isn’t this. the pile of debris sitting on the shower floor. crying and fighting the urge to scream at the top of my lungs that i don’t want to be here anymore.

lone-pine-poetry

[patchwork-angel]

i wish i wasnt stuck here

[patchwork-angel]

If self abuse ever did any good you would have flourished many moons ago.

[patchwork-angel]

i feel like i’m drowning and his hand isn’t there to save me

lone-pine-poetry

[patchwork-angel]

i dont think im burnt out per se but i have deteriorated immensely to the point where im not really sure where to begin to get myself back on track

[patchwork-angel]

living with a parent after you're 18: why are you home??? wh y are you on the computer??/ you need to be looking for a job!!! why are you going out so much!!! its 3am what are you doing up? working? no, you should be asleep. its 9 am why aren't you awake!!! go look for a job! bring your resume and cv to the nearest store and ask for the manager and get a job!! you're under MY roof and you're MINE so you do what I SAY you dont' get PRIVACY you're still MY CHILD

parent after you move out: hey :((( why don't we talk anymore? miss you sweetie. you're doing so well, but you should visit more :( you're always so busy with your job :((((

[patchwork-angel]

not to mention i get gleeful and full of pride when no one knows whats going on with me or when im able to have a BPD episode without alerting anybody… cant stop viewing my ex as my savior. i still look to please him even when he isnt here in my life. which is ACTUALLY cringey as fuck… but i cant stop. ohhhhh he got me good hahahahaha

[patchwork-angel]

hate that my partners have shitty exes & friends but now that im getting all the details and how it affected them im able to know what NOT to do and where i can improve on my own so that i dont bring these issues up later… i got a glimpse of the game before i even stepped on the court. or whatever. or something.

[patchwork-angel]

maybe its the paranoia but i know my messages are being read

[patchwork-angel]

when i say the urge to relapse and go drinking is really really really strong right now. jesus fuck

[patchwork-angel]

just wanna cry and cry and cry

[patchwork-angel]

that one post abt how unemployment is great but relying on someone financially kinda sucks and like yeah idk!

[patchwork-angel]

yk being reminded of how i used to be where i thought life was awesome and cool and everything was exciting made me wanna restart my lovecore account bc fuck it i gotta keep trying to reconnect with that part of me! its the only thing thats gonna save me!!

[patchwork-angel]

wait this is an abusive situation?!?? there is trauma happening in front of my eyes?!?? this is why im so fucking crazy????