"Be unassuming. Otherwise, you'll cry."
Me — i.e, jpenseur
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I'm sorry that I am not the person you expect me to be. I am sorry for your confusion. You will never know me like I know me, you can come very close, and there's joy there but... there's always going to be this gap, and you fill that gap with fabrication or expectations. Trying to contort myself into that metaphysical mold is like a cage. Or like a sick show where I stand on stage without instruction, critiqued by thousands. I'm not going to change myself for anyone's ideals but my own. My love is me in its entirety. 

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Meaningless weed extremely root bound in your flower bed of perfect people.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Blurbs of Indication

Me — i.e, jpenseur
I look at you unapologetically. I say outlandish blurbs of indication.  I give gifts right from the heart.  I laugh at your soliloquies. When you went in for a hug, I almost gave in discomfort.  I wish I had raised the white flag.  I don't know much, but I do know one thing. I want things to work out.   
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Vincent van Gogh

Me — i.e, jpenseur
Skeleton with a cigarette. We talk with no regret. My heart beats fast in a fishbowl. Yours evident from bone to bone. You bring joy from unexpected places. From texts to peculiar faces. I took a smoke to make some time. To wonder whether your question was benign. I go through the same eb and flows. The question of, am I in love? Or is it just the smoke?
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The Martyr

Me — i.e, jpenseur
I am always apologizing for my feelings. Always giving more than what's good for me. Acts. Always the martyr. Someone who is never at fault and always devout. False. I am forever condemned for knowing and seeing more. Holy, you preyed on that. You are false in every sense. Unfeeling. How could you make me carry it all? How dare you indulge in my love and present me with disdain. You have wronged me. May days be dry and lifeless. May thirst and hunger plague. May the mind run wild, driven to insanity. The soul that never finds peace. Agony. Despair. Guilt. Revelation.  Confess your sins. It's always his forgiveness. False.
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Prayed for religion.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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You can hate me.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
My words were strong, powerful, harsh even, but it was from deep within my heart. I'm always just someone you think about when you have to. If you only acknowledge me when we're face-to-face, I would rather not be acknowledged by you at all. There was never a time where you tried to reach out to me, it was always just me who made an effort. It felt exhausting wanting attention from you. The more we spoke, the more you unraveled. I started questioning whether you only keep me around because you like the attention. I spent many days questioning my value to you. The longer the thought marinated in my head, I realize that objectively, we add very little to each other's lives. We make each other happy, but that's not enough in this world. You would be so much better off with people that can build you up, and that works both ways.
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I'm afraid I'm slowly turning into a monster.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
I'm afraid I'm slowly turning into a  monster. I have so much anger inside me that sometimes It feels like It will just burst. It feels like unexploded ordnance, buried in all my overthinking and unpleasant interactions. It starts as frustration and stays that way until I eventually find myself pleading for a solution. When left with silence, my frustration morphs into a vicious flame of anger. I become very sensitive; agitated by everything. I put on a smile even though I'm screaming in my head. I've been thinking about what has been fueling these flames, and I realized that it's everything and everyone that's been abusing my kindness. What makes me the angriest are the hypocrites who say they care for me but harm me all the same. My soul is deteriorating, and this anger and agitation have been its way of self-preservation. For the past week, I've had to choose between being around people and being angry or avoiding people and feeling lonely. My brain prefe...
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You make room.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
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Chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be.

Me — i.e, jpenseur
Whenever I see you, I'm called to do more and to be more in order to somehow pique your interest. To make you think that I'm a basket worth all your eggs. When we interact, it just feels so smooth and effortless, and I don't feel drained after conversations. When you speak, I can't help but admire you. I make an effort to listen even when my attention span is less than desirable; the net benefit for me just feels worth it. When you act all goofy, I want to just cover you in my arms. I daydream about how warm you would make me feel. I so deeply want to run my fingers along your hair and just take time to show you my affection. How wonderful would it be to be together? These, of course, are all just unrealistic desires. I know I can't be with you. There's just too great of a chinook pushing you away from where I want you to be. I do, however, appreciate that I can dream. 
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