Being Normal

  i am trying so hard to allow things to be messy, to be unorganized, to be real. i want to let go and allow things to come to me like a dog comes to lay by your feet, but i feel in my life i have instilled such an addiction to control, such an addiction to imbalance, that i find myself feeling stagnant. i don’t want to have to cover everything i’ve ever wanted in claw marks and bruises. why can’t things just come and stay without me having to enforce the parts of myself i find most disgusting? there are moments where i find the way i am to be appalling. no matter what, i will always feel like i am a cage in search of a bird, keeping something else away from what could’ve been.

  i rob myself of the opportunity to experience things normally because i can’t handle the idea of something moving away from me. there will be moments where i feel as though i am healed, that there is nothing wrong with me, and for the past couple years i’ve only imagined all these concepts and heartaches. but they’re real. they’re so real, and they set me back so far. i get so fucking frustrated when shit from my past is still pestering me to this day. why can’t i just be left alone? why do the markings i received as a child still persist in my mind, my body, my heart? why do i have to remember the nights i lay awake on my twin-sized bed contemplating if i ever would have a place in this world, a place where i can call home? still to this day i feel like i’m wandering around trying to make sense of it all, and in the end i just want a family. i am obsessed with control, with setting things in my own life to be ordered and steady to ensure it won’t fall apart, but i can’t control people. i can’t control their thoughts or feelings, let alone their actions, but i still feel like i can try. why can’t you just stay in place and never move? why can’t you just answer to me and only me? it’s disgusting. 

  i hate thinking this way, and i wish i could drag my brain across the pavement to shave it down. i want to be recognized, i want to be chosen. i want to be loved. i want a home, i want a family, i want so many things, but no matter what, i can’t help but feel that my mind, my thoughts will soon stain anything meaningful. the cuts and open wounds from my past will slowly bleed over, turning the beautiful white sheets of new connections into a deep red, consuming and unforgiving, forcing a mark, forcing presence, forcing me.