little girl from oklahoma
you were the tornado that was never asked for
born from true intentions
you reck more havoc than you fix
and everyone said you can’t do anything to help it
because it’s in your mother-nature
engrained in the winds you blow
but you know you could have at least tried to stop yourself
if only you’d pay attention to know

 

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what girl doesn’t wish for a happy family
from which she was born
does everyone have their own experience
of blood only feeling hatred and scorn

i want the times where i am fun and naive
because it’s a harsher thing to accept this truth
than i can ignore
what i believe

stranger on the outside
almost more comfortable here than in the circle of people you know

sit on the outskirts
of conversations you wish were easy
but the words never come to you
so you’re left feeling alone and queasy

people sit and try to fit in
you can see past all their bullshit
the people who don’t even know anyway
but somehow fit in no matter the case

when did i stop writing?
it wasn’t when everything became okay.
when did i stop writing?
my never ending thoughts, they never went away.

when did i stop cataloging
all the hopes and fears i had
when did i stop thinking in rhymes
was it when my life didn’t make me so miserably sad?

when did i stop feeling
like i wasn’t actually alone?
and what if it doesn’t work out?
i’ll lose myself, my heart, the man that makes me feel at home.

my life is a blur of memories I can’t quite seem to recall
only known by photos jogging alternate snapshots of a full life
that i can’t really recollect
or put to a solid frame of time

my life is an inconsistent choice
made by a girl who knows too little too late
who is sure in the moment that what she wants is the best thing for her
but can’t seem to recall her reasoning when questioned

my path is guided by choices towards good
but lurking in the shadows are the fears she has about others
so she shines her light upon them
and hopes it can help them too

Two years ago I sat alone with a man, who I vaguely knew through friends. We talked by ourselves for four hours after everyone else went home.
Two years ago was groundbreaking for a lot of cheesy posts, a ton of laughs, and a lot of learning.

I could literally write a novel, and I’ve already written 15 versions of this to fully explain how I feel. I got really lucky. I have a man who challenges me, is supportive, and is the best person I could ever have in my life.

I am struggling.
I am struggling to find myself in a sea full of worry I have created upon my own.

I used to be strong and strong-willed
but then I lost my drive and motivation.
I lost what filled my soul and drove my heart.
And I can’t tell if it’s that I’m getting older,
or the world is changing,
but I lost me along the way to find myself.

I am hard to the earth
where on this earth, it was once hard to be me.
I am becoming dull and dumb
where I once bloomed and strived for the light.
I lost my ways of loving and being open
and have in-turn shut out the light that let me glow.

I am struggling to remember
a time where I wasn’t like this
because honestly I even remember my family saying the things I’ve been thinking
when I was younger and more naive.
I am struggling to find the middle ground where true should actually be
between what I feel is right
and what’s been haunting me.

I want to be love and I want to be free
but I can’t pull away from the freedom that I won’t let the other people be
I need change and I need acceptance
but am not willing to change for myself
or accept who I am.

And so I sit and stay
in this narrow unfulfilled space
while I let my life pass me by
and these slow, nurtureless thoughts race.