Looking Through My Eyes by Kayla Stiles (literature books to read txt) 📕

I don’t know how I screwed up so bad.

All I wanted was his affection, his love.

And now, because of a few stupid fights,

I’ve lost all hope of gaining that back.

I miss him so much, it makes me sick to my stomach.

But I can’t get him back. He won’t let me come back to him.

He left, and now he says that, even though he misses me,

Even though it hurts him to be without me,

He can’t come back to me.

All because of some stupid little fights…

All because of my own stupidity…

I love this man more than I love life.

Hell, he is my life, my world.

And now he’s gone. And I can barely see through my tears.

I can say this all I want:

I’m fine. It only hurts to breathe.

But there’s an error with that..

And that is that I’m not fine…

I don’t think I will be for a long while, if at all.

I have friends who love me, a guy who loves me.

But I can’t seem to make myself turn to them…

I love him. I truly do. And that will never change.

I can’t move on in my life without him…

I kept all our pictures together…

All the things he gave me…

But does it all really matter? Not really…

I don’t want memories of him and I,

If they’re only going to destroy me more.

I want him by my side again.

I want his warm, loving arms around me again.

His gentle kiss on my forehead.

His strong hand in mine..

I want him back.

But he doesn’t want me back the same way…

Why, Goddess, why?

Why do you give me angels,

Just to take them away from me when I need them most?

Why do you enjoy seeing me die inside?

I love you, Edward Shubael Dimmick.

I just want you back. I want you to see how much I love you…

But I guess you don’t want to see it…

You gave me hope for a happier love…

You freed me from my depression.. and now you’re gone…

This hurts too much to bear…

Isolation

3/26/14

She sits in the forest,

Alone and isolated from the rest of the world.

The middle of Autumn.

The crisp, cool breeze rustles the trees’ leaves

Of vibrant reds, mellow yellows, and great greens.

She sits alone, thinking, just thinking.

Thinking about the past,

Contemplating the present,

Mesmerized by thoughts of the future.

The still-green tree stump

Rooted underneath her rump,

Her only stability.

The whispering trees and cold breeze,

Her only companions,

The only ones to hear her cries.

She feels alone, isolated from the whole world.

As though she’s all alone and no one else is there.

No one there for her in her time of need.

Sunken deep in the muds of utter depression,

Drowning in the pool of despair,

She’s no idea what to do next.

Who to believe, who to listen to.

She’s alone, and no one will hear her screams of anguish,

Her tortured cries and body-wracking sobs.

She’s all alone, lost in her world of isolation.

Will anyone save her?

Can anyone even attempt to?

 Mom

February 7, 2014

I remember good times with you, sure.

But I also remember bad times with you, so clearly.

Remember that day, the last day of my high school junior year?

We went to Aunt Marie’s house.

We had an argument in the car, over my belief that you saw me as worthless.

We got in a fist fight upon arriving at Aunt Marie’s.

I ran inside and the verbal argument continued.

You outright called me worthless, then.

Do you remember that? Do you remember the hurt look in my eyes?

That haunted look that’s always lurked just beneath the surface

Of these blue orbs that open to my soul, these eyes that are as much yours as they are mine.

I used to look up to you, being the only parent present in my life and all.

But now I just see someone who only sees me as something not worthy of anything.

Someone who looks at me with anger and rage, with hatred for me being my father’s daughter.

That’s it, isn’t it? I’m so much like my father, and you absolutely hate it.

You hate how much I act like him, how many thoughts in my head

Correspond with thoughts that he has. You despise me for being so much akin to him.

I’ve never wanted to leave as much as I do now.

To just pack up some clothes and essentials while you’re at work,

And just up and leave. Walk out that door and not return.

You’d see my stuff missing and you’d wonder.

Don’t worry, though. I’d tell you the truth, once you realized I was gone.

I’d tell you the whole truth, too.

That I couldn’t stay anymore. I couldn’t deal with the constant favoritism shown to William,

And the constant anger catapulted at my face.

I couldn’t handle the stress that you caused, the anguish deep inside.

I mean, come on! I’m so much better off than so many other people my age out there.

Hell! So much better off than even some of my cousins around my age!

I’m not 16 and pregnant with my first child.

I’m not 19 with two kids and no way to support them.

I don’t have kids that I don’t even take care of.

I actually finished high school ON TIME and am now in college to become a teacher!

I smoke cigarettes, yes. But at least I don’t do any other drugs!

I’m clean! I’m not a full-blown alcoholic, not a druggie.

And I’m most definitely NOT the monster you make me out to be!

I’m actually doing something with my life.

I give you money from my FAFSA so you can pay for things that we need.

I’m trying to get a job so I can help support you and William! I don’t have to do that!

But I’m doing it out of the kindness of my cold heart.

But I’m done being your scapegoat every time something goes wrong or something isn’t done.

I’m done being your personal punching bag. I want out! And I want it NOW!

I can’t stand being in a house where I’m obviously not welcome.

As Three Days Grace so perfectly put it: “This house is not a home.”

I feel so invisible to you, except for in times when you’re angry and need someone

To let all your anger and frustration out on.

When you need someone to blame for all that’s going wrong.

I’m done living with someone who doesn’t truly care about me.

You say you’re so proud of my accomplishments,

That you brag about me all the time to your friends and coworkers.

I call bull on that. Why? Because you don’t prove it to me at home!

You say you love me, yet you often spit in my face.

I’m tired of always being the one to blame for everything.

I cannot, and will not, be here forever.

As soon as I get that job at Quikmart and work there for a couple months,

Get a few hundred bucks saved up and have security in my job,

I’m leaving! I. Am. Not. You!

Nor do I want to be. But I will tell you this. As soon as is possible,

I. Am. Gone. 

My Place in the Rain

You see me pass by you everyday

Yet at the same time, you don’t see me.

You see the paper smile taped to my face.

This daily-donned façade of a happy me.

But inside is contained all the hurt and ache

From a million broken dreams, a hundred broken promises.

A teenage girl, lonely and dying of deadened heartache.

Has a boyfriend and all she can really think about

Is all the memories of an ex boyfriend she loves and misses.

All I can ever truly always be guaranteed

Is my place standing in the middle of the rain

As it pours down over my face, treating me like a seed.

My feet planted firmly on the ground, seeming insane.

While everyone takes cover indoors from the cold,

I stand alone in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone.

The salty tears streaming down my face mingle with the semi-cold

Fresh water of the rain. I stand there forever, still as stone.

For This is My Place in the Rain.

No name 2

10/30/10

Blood pooling around her broken body,

From her shattered wings, her broken heart.

Tears pouring down her grimy face,

Creating ashen streaks upon her cheeks.

As she sits, crouched in a corner,

A white rose lies at her feet.

Blood spatters and dots the lily-white petals

In an exquisitely grotesque artwork of beauty.

The razor lies to her left, a note to her right.

The edges of both of which are saturated in blood.

An apology and explanation.

On the note, her reasons.

The cuts gape open on her wrists, her chest, her legs.

Like scarlet, staring, sinister eyes

Covering her body whole.

Spiders of blood creep over her limbs,

Embrace her in ways nobody ever could,

Or even would. She was despised.

She giggles dazedly,

Playing, making shapes in her own blood upon the floor.

Suddenly, warm arms enfold her, lift her up.

It’s him. He’s come to save her from herself.

He carries her out, bandages her cuts.

Kisses her softly, tears in his eyes.

“I love you,” uttered from his lips.

Her teary response. “I hate you.”