Comments Posted By Carolynn

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It was the staple to put it all together. I’m not even sure how that works out, but it most definitely stabbed into my chest a little. There it was, the dirty little detail that wrapped every worst memory and feeling together, shining in the light just to prove how worthless I was. It really was unnecessary; I already knew.

» Posted By Carolynn On 03.17.2012 @ 5:02 pm


It was the dessert to top off a horrific meal. The kind that makes your stomach hurt just thinking about it. He was a dreadfully burned one-course meal with a chaser of rotten fruit pie. I wallowed in the absolute pain of the taste in my mouth, almost even savored it. Not because I had a taste for the acrid, but because I felt that I could never deserve more.

» Posted By Carolynn On 12.27.2011 @ 10:02 pm


It was dull. Dull, dull, dull, she echoed through her head as she sat against the hard brick that scraped her bare back. Her fancy dress was ruined, obviously, and its low back wasn’t doing her any favors now in the chill and rough texture of the wall behind her. Sigh. Fuck life.

» Posted By Carolynn On 10.17.2011 @ 5:14 pm


It’s a mystery that anyone ever cared about me. I was broken, stupid, something that shopkeepers would hide in the back so no one would want to buy me until I was placed on clearance, 90% off. Even then, I would be bought by someone who thought they could pull me to pieces and only acknowledge the good to morph it into their own ideas. I couldn’t be what I wanted to be, that’s never good enough.

» Posted By Carolynn On 10.08.2011 @ 10:16 pm


I once pondered the meaning of existence. Whether it was worth it to keep on trying, why the rains always fell and people continued to starve. Who determines who falls in love and who misses the chance. Whether love is worth it at all. Why everyone will always feel inadequate. And then I realized it doesn’t matter, as long as you keep surviving. All we care about in the end is happiness, and no one knows how to reach it.

» Posted By Carolynn On 09.07.2011 @ 9:48 pm


It was the cutest umbrella, and it made my heart ache. A tiny thing, she wore ladybug galoshes and a hot pink raincoat, guarding herself from the downpour with a miniature transparent umbrella. It was in that moment that I first noticed the absence present in my life, the fact that I was here, no wedding ring and no family, and she was hopping from puddle to puddle, her mother’s loving gaze following her. I couldn’t help but wonder if my sacrifices were worth the wound in my chest.

» Posted By Carolynn On 08.25.2011 @ 9:20 am


It was punishment, and I had a feeling she knew it. She simply held her gaze on mine, steely blue and scarier in it’s grip than ever before. I could only sit and squirm, not weak enough to break the trance but not strong enough to call her out. I couldn’t help but feel like I was inadequate, and this was her way of telling me.

» Posted By Carolynn On 08.14.2011 @ 10:24 pm


There are never the answers you’re looking for, only many more questions. I like to pretend that these questions are extravagant, poignant, the sort of thing that is philosophical and makes you stumble upon those solutions. But more often than not, they become a maze, and I find myself stumbling over my own feet, looking right and left desperately in the hopes that there are ways to get free when there never will be. Only more questions, and fewer answers.

» Posted By Carolynn On 08.11.2011 @ 11:33 pm


It hit me like a brick, like a load of concrete on my chest. I even huffed a slight oof, so taken aback was I by the pain brought by shock. I couldn’t believe it, and I didn’t know that I ever would be able to. It was a weight on my soul, a catch in my throat, a glare in my eyes. It scared me in that instant with more terror than I had ever thought I was capable of, that possibility of being trapped here, alone.

» Posted By Carolynn On 08.08.2011 @ 10:48 pm


It was a blank canvas, and it ripped through my soul, like I was the canvas and it was a razor blade. I stared and stared until my eyes tingled with dry pain, but still there was nothing that I felt was worthy of its pure surface. Perhaps that’s what I am, empty, alone, waiting for someone willing enough to cast their shadow on my soul. A blank canvas, yearning to be touched by an artist.

» Posted By Carolynn On 08.08.2011 @ 10:54 am


I always hated his stupid buck head on the wall. I hated a lot of things, I realized as I sat on the couch, eating ice cream and crying my eyes out. I hated that stupid crooked smile of his, I hated his red felt-covered pool table, and I hated his absolutely perfect body. I hated the way that he knew what I was thinking and exactly how to fix my every little problem. Maybe what I hated the most, I sadly realized, was the fact that I only repeated these things to try and convince myself that I wasn’t still madly in love with him.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.25.2011 @ 8:20 pm


We had a history, the kind worthy of tears. Every time I saw him and those smoky blue eyes, that’s exactly what I felt like doing. The water touched my eyelashes, and it took all my strength to not let them free. I wished he could tell, that I could let myself cry and maybe he would sweep me up, like in the old movies. Then we could finally kiss and finally be the us I always dreamed of. But our history told otherwise, and I was doomed to be trapped with it, secret admirer from afar.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.23.2011 @ 11:44 pm


It was an intense sort of feeling, and not one I’m proud of. Afterwards, sweaty and exhausted as I laid in his bed, I realized how very wrong I was to think this was right. What sort of joy is there in passion when it’s propped up by cardboard and bound to cave in at any moment? There was never anything, just a painted scene, two dimensional and forever weak.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.22.2011 @ 10:32 pm


The very cells of my being shivered with dread. I dragged my feet, feeling the static crawl up my legs and through my bones as if it was an army of insects. It was here that everything terrible in my life began. Everything dreadful, everything fearful, everything that brought me to my knees in pain of remembrance. Here he destroyed me, and I didn’t know how I would ever look at those walls again. How do you return to innocence when it was never your choice to lose it?

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.21.2011 @ 11:18 pm


He held me close, and for the first time in my memory, I let the tears flow. I didn’t know where they came from or even why I wept with such great depth, but they were profound tears. He was a stranger, handsome and somehow friendly, and I knew he didn’t deserve the burden of my sorrow. This was perhaps the epitome of my life, bitterly saddened because of consequence, and so I continued to despise myself.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.19.2011 @ 10:27 pm


I wonder what he thinks, when he has that look in his eye. Everytime he looks down at me, I try to understand his cloudy brown gaze. It sort of breaks my heart, and I get the gut feeling that it should. Since when do people like us make it in love? He’s perfect, unspoiled and immaculate. I don’t know how to be just right. Perhaps that’s what he thinks, and with an aching soul I have to agree.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.17.2011 @ 12:40 pm


It was the kind of smile you remember, like your favorite cereal bowl as a child or which birthday present was the most fun. His smile was the kind that broke your heart, because you knew that it was a lie. Whenever we locked eyes, I saw it appear, but I knew it was to make me happy, because his eyes were dead. I didn’t know him, but I knew that smile, far too well.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.16.2011 @ 11:15 pm


Train station, life station. It is here that I am to say goodbye. Forever. An eternal goodbye to my life here, and my love here. His eyes were gloomy and clouded over with the worst sort of tears. I didn’t know what to say, there really wasn’t anything at all to say. I knew I needed him, we were perfect in every sense. But here was goodbye. Train station, life station; I picked up my bags and left, never to look back again though the misery shook my soul.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.14.2011 @ 11:50 pm


Beloved by all, she thought bitterly. That’s the sort of idea you’re supposed to give them as a princess. She wore all the fanciest gowns from the most renowned seamstresses, she was on top of every social chain, and still she was angry and alone. No one really cared. They cared about her tiara, sure, but did they care about her heart? She was the most popular soul in the kingdom, but still she went to bed with an aching chest and water-touched eyes.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.13.2011 @ 10:49 am


A funeral of the soul, I decided I would title it (at least in my brain). It was ceremonial, sort of, watching the memories turn from vibrant images to a pile of blackened remains. They danced through the flames, ascended from the paper into the sky and out of my heart. I would never again be haunted by his ghost, for we were done, and the memories were burned.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.11.2011 @ 3:30 pm


The teacher was all wrong, and I had a feeling she knew it. Still she argued with my daily about the ethics in trying to correct an authority figure. I didn’t care. I felt that things should always be right, and your superior amount of time on this planet didn’t change that. Even we children own up to a little wisdom.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.09.2011 @ 11:43 pm


I can’t keep forgetting things. It just isn’t working out. It makes me seem unreliable, and that’s one thing I can’t live with. Who in the world wants someone they can’t trust to remember the smallest things? Is it a sign that something bigger is wrong? That’s a slippery slope I don’t want to fall over again…

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.08.2011 @ 9:45 am

I keep forgetting everything. Where I parked my car, where I left my hairbrush, which movie I should bring to my boyfriend’s house. I wonder if it’s a sign. Am I falling apart, deteriorating slowly? It seems like corruption, working its way outward. How long until I succumb, until I’m nothing but lost and broken, again. It always comes down to this, so self-absorbed, so ruined. How am I ever going to get anywhere when being me means I always fall apart?

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.07.2011 @ 12:06 pm


I painted on my smile, as I did every morning. Bright, bloody fantastic red lipstick. It brought out the perfect white of my teeth while giving a slight nod to my gruesome interior. I wasn’t ever perfect, no matter how hard I tried, but when I put on my daily mask, I could pretend like I was flawless. As long as I smile, they might believe me, and if they believe it, perhaps I can too.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.06.2011 @ 9:02 pm


It was the plaid skirt, I decided, that ruined the outfit. I felt too typical, trapped in this horrific ensemble chosen by soccer moms and superintendents. Who in the world thinks plaid skirts are flattering or even fit for a school uniform? It’s for conformity, and I didn’t believe in it. Not one bit. I am born to stand out, beyond this world and its plaid.

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.05.2011 @ 10:59 pm


The chalkboard always creeped me out. The way it was always dry, like a soul scraped clean and left with nothing but dust. The teacher always called on me to answer the questions, and I cringed before even touching the white stone to its surface. I knew it would scrape across and ruin my spine farther, that I would never feel the same for the rest of the day. It was, perhaps, a reflection of my soul, who would want to touch that?

» Posted By Carolynn On 06.04.2011 @ 6:46 pm


we idolize people in this world who truly don’t deserve it. paris is thin and beautiful but the fat nurse that saves lives “cant take car of herself” so she doesn’t deserve our respect. idolization of appearance is killing our ability to understand others as people.

» Posted By Carolynn On 08.06.2009 @ 8:55 pm


Oh god that would suck so much. It ruins your life when your my age. Its a desperate fear of all women hoping to advance their lives. But why? Why should I freak out about creating life? Because it throws you into the stigma about being a mother and a house wife and mothers are never considered intelligent. You’re always the dumb girl who got knocked up what an IDIOT.

» Posted By Carolynn On 10.13.2009 @ 11:38 am

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