I hate it when the archives extend past the end of the sidebar so I'm going to blog again just to fill space. I never have anything to say anyway so this isn't any sort of drastic change. :)

I wrote this last year, and is just being used to fill space. Completely ignore it if you chose.

...and still I wonder

“Alysia, I mean really, what are you thinking?” lectures my inflated sense of inadequacy, in its habitually condescending tone. “You should know better by now. Unattainable. Come, come now.”

“But there may be a chance…” cautiously whispers self worth, newly returned from the hospital. It is perpetually ill with one thing or another. I can not keep a healthy self worth. “I mean, he does seem accessible.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” moans my memory. It remembers the past, while it shuffles by wearing the face I scarred. I allowed too many unwilling to reciprocate my affection to come close enough to blood let.

“But maybe…if even just maybe,” says my self-esteem, which is dying as we speak of an incurable disease, eating it from the inside out. It is in confidence chemo but I believe it is beyond healing.

Then it stops. All the discussions, all the complaining, all the noise stops. He walked in. The owner of the only voice that matters, but we all know he won’t say a thing.




So similar… stupid girl and stupid git