Bonnie’s Beach 🏖

My Life. My Experiences. My Love. My Words.

It’s Not Me…

on September 3, 2021

It’s you.

A poison.

A victim to your own false bravado. Pretending to be something more than you truly are. Believing you are owed respect while simultaneously disrespecting those who truly love you. You only show respect to those you fear. But those who love you, who truly want to help you, who want to be there for you, are easy targets. You claim everyone who loves you eventually fucks you over, while knowingly taking advantage of their kindness and willingness to open their hearts to you as you manipulate them, use them, lie to them, steal from them, and discard them when your facade falls away. You give them no choice but to protect themselves from you and your abuse.

Don’t you see the pattern yet? Are you in such denial that you refuse to admit your true faults? That your actions speak louder than words ever could? That all the love in the universe will eventually run out when you waste it? When you blame it? Bully it? Degrade it? Shun it? Spite it? Abuse it? Deny it?

Claiming to not give a fuck about others and their feelings, only shows how you refuse to love yourself. Your desire to be the good and kindhearted man so many of us know exists, is overshadowed by your pride, your ego, and your anger. You are a coward who claims to know who he is while hiding behind his silver grin. Running away from everyone and everything when paranoia turns the world against you.

You have been told before, you get what you give. You only give what you want to but disregard what is needed. You twist words and emotions to forge daggers to pierce the hearts of anyone within arms reach. Your attempts to force blood from stones blinds you to the fact that the blood is your own, from your own hands. The harder you squeeze the deeper the cuts become, as you tighten your grip on the sharp edges you created.

You push away.

You run away.

You hide from the truth you claim to know and preach.

The frustration caused by your inability to control others is a reflection of how you are unable to control yourself. Your anger. The nature you up learned from various teachers while growing in such a dark, cold world, and there is little doubt you learned from the best.

You’re so blind.

But you choose to be that way.

You’re tortured by choice.

You’re alone by choice.

How can you bend and grow and love when your rigidity breaks in a strong wind?

You have shattered the hearts of those around you, forcing them to put up walls which only proves your own point: the truth you want to believe is true, is just the lie that you created.

You wound everyone so deeply that they become dangerous. Like injured animals they lash out and defend themselves from you. So they can survive. Because choosing to be complicit while slowly bleeding out, means certain death.

And what good is a heart after it’s stopped beating?

How do you expect to receive love when you have singlehandedly destroyed it?

How do you ever expect yourself to love anyone, including yourself, when you choose to suffocate it before it can take its first breath?

You are loved more than you know.

We all see through you now, and yet we still choose to love you. Yes. We have protected ourselves from the you you show to the world. We may be naive in our hopes that the goodness, battling deep inside you for air and sunlight, will once again break the surface and win the war.

It’s ultimately your choice, and who gives a fuck what we think?

We are not you.

I am not you.

And now I have to learn to live with these new walls that have been erected to save myself.

But those walls are not me.

They are you.


One response to “It’s Not Me…

  1. KindaShy says:

    Walls, as far as you’re concerned…..
    Are canvasses to be painted in abstract, vivid colors……….😊

    Like

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