Ever mine, Ever thine, Ever ours.

And after all this time it's clear to me that you were always the one.
I'd let you go and I know that's my fault.
I was betrayed by my new surroundings and curiosity.
The simple need and want of more.

Now many moons have passed yet I still search for you.
You have grown old but you still seem so young in nature.
The same smile, the same style, the same butterflies when I see or hear of you.

You were the one.
And you were perfect.
But I was blinded by selfishness.
And truly it is not you who was wounded
but me.

Just a girl.

|

Who am I you ask with your voice filled with surprise,
When you're staring so deeply with your alluring eyes
I am a girl that's all you can see
But there's more to adventure if you'd care to believe,

Who am I you ask with your voice filled with curiosity
When you're pouring the drink down my throat so forcefully,
I am a girl that's all you can see,
Youthful and love the attention all on me,

Who am I you ask with your voice filled with laughter,
When you're helping me up as I'm trying to  clamber,
I am girl that's all you can see,
Tripping in her high heels, giggling so gleefully,

Who am I you ask with your voice so caring,
When you're holding my hand, this is ever so daring,
I am a girl that's all you can see,
A girl who needs help oh fucking geez!

Who am I you ask with your voice condescending,
When your pulling my hair from my face as I'm vommiting,
I am a girl thats all you can see,
He thinks silly is she who walks with me,

Who am I he asks with his voice uncomfortable,
When your pulling at my dress my pants, I'm vulnerable,
I am a girl that's all you can see
I'm scared crying out but you can't hear me.

Who am I you ask with your voice so powerful,
When your taking me home in an unknown vehicle,
I am a girl that's all you can see,
Paralysed. Unconscious what more can there be..

||

Who am I he asks with his voice Unknown,
When your staring down at me, I'm not in my home,
All around my visions returning,
The room is white, my memories blurring
I am a girl that's all you can see,
Without a clue, what's happened to me.

Who were you with he asks monotone,
Did you attempt to get home, all alone?
I'm not quite sure that's all I can say,
The truth is bitter, but today's a new day.
I am a girl that's all you can see,
Who's starting to remember what's happened to me.

Where were you at? He asks with endeavour,
Trying to make me want to remember,
I was with a man and the story unfolds,
The memories are now bright and disgustingly bold.
I am girl that's all he could see,
I told the man who listened so patiently...

|||

Who am I get asked when they hear my story,
Some want to know my infamous glory,
The gruesome details and the emotional plight,
That I went through that cold November night.
I am a girl that's all he could see.
That's what I say, when they ask frightfully.

I am no longer the girl he encountered,
That foolish young girl who he had taken and mounted.
I am a woman it is clear to see.
Who will never forget the events misery,
But I take on the pain as a badge of honour,
As from this I became a beautiful flower,
Recounted my trust and gained an education,
For women are not just pleasure, sex, lactation.
We have more gifts than men can ever imagine,
A brain full of love, inspiration and madness.
Never let a man try to determine your life,
This may be daunting
and cause strife,
Bad things they do happen to all of us it's known,
But do not let it destroy one bit of your soul.

"It's not you its me"

she was nothing special. 

nor was anything about her miraculously different from any other woman.

she just simply lost that spark that made her unique.

her eccentric flares had become nothing but a dream.

but he calmly told her "it's not you its me" 

she was just a girl at the end of the day. 

who like every other, she hated her own entirety.

but that was normality for her gender.

her aged skin and wild hair, was not choice but nature.

but he calmly told her "it's not you its me" 

she was only human.

and from that she saw flaws but also potential.

what if there's a chance for more?

For she had passion and fire in her heart.

but he calmly told her "it's not you its me."

She began to understand his phrasing.

The truth within it all.

From loving him she became him.

And lost herself within his hold.

but he calmly told her "it's not you its me" 

She was just a girl at the end of the day.

Full of desires, wants and goals.

She was not just a girl,

So she stepped forward.

but he calmly told her "it's not you its me." 

She is a Woman. 

So she does whatever feels necessary to conquer.

From losing him she discovered a new mind set. 

She became a brand new person. 

The person she needed to be.

She was free....

puppet show.

Puppetry is a form of a theatrical show which is used to entertain the masses and a spectacular one. It's basic concept is to manipulate an inanimate object into becoming a character and in many cultures it is used for the purpose of expressing morality in an accessible intelligible form. But it is quite clear that this is still an aspect of modern society.. (Stick with me I promise this is going somewhere) 

I presume you are reading this on some form of technology. A smartphone perhaps of the Apple origin or just generally an up to date modern piece of technology... 

Within that tiny piece of metal it has access to all of our accounts which have within it what we present ourselves to be to the public, polished pristine humans with plenty of money, food and objects of which we truly do not need.. But we deem them necessary to our existence. 

Hand Puppets. Capitalism. The primary example of manipulation. We see what we want, we take on jobs which add nothing to our character to be able to afford these menial objects and the karma cycle continues. The more money we earn the more we want and the manufacturers of products know this and continue to show us our desires and explain that all we need to do to be thinner, have a beautiful home/ car is to buy this product which is  essential in bettering our unnecessary existence. But this is just puppetry. The hand up the arse of a glove, the starting point of manipulation. 

The lustful craving of the unnesecary, making us believe that this product will make our lives easier than what we already have. 

But that is not it, we see celebrities on snapchat, Instagram Facebook indorcing all of these brands, scantily dressed, losing themselves to the control of money. The puppeteer being the first acting job, the first taste of money, pulling these humans in all directions making them become a shadow of what they formerly were. Making them inanimate and their stories known to the public through a specifically altered angle of a camera lense, being told what to wear, to eat....

This form of puppetry to me is ventriloquism.. If you own a percentage of a persons a soul, they will say what you and the public want to say. The puppeteer says  dance, you will see them on some form of television show exploiting themselves to the Rhythm of a samba. Let's be honest, for the right price most people will be bought and I think it's an art form when you can control a human being.

And from that point my next is a mix of two forms of puppetry, these being Shadow and Stringed and when I explain these, it is in the context of relationships with other human beings, within a normal aspect, I.e, no money involved, no manager, just platonic or sexual relations. 

Humanity is a race which predominantly has recessive or dominant beings, obviously there are grey areas to this argument but generally this idea is true. These being stronger and weaker people. And in our lives we need the balance in order to maintain healthy relationships. But we do clash if there are people extremely alike or on completely opposite ends of the spectrum..so if we envisioned this it would be like the laws of magnetic energy.(Google the basic idea of you need too) 

But as humans we are social beings who need to be surrounded by a pack which lifts us and provides positives. As in order to achieve we need to believe and have support etc. 

In every relationship their is always a stronger one more upbeat, more vivacious one and a weaker, individual.

But what happens when they lose interest? Well this is quite obvious the pack becomes diffused, unable to carry on as it gives the impression of a wound. They are somewhat broken.. 

And to fix this is takes work. 

This work is essentially taken on by the individuals, they will change their appearance, their outlooks, their life goals. Or this can be done by another telling them or showing them what to change. They will provide the basics to bring new life to an old act. 

But  my main question is, is this truly a viable aspect? Because as recessive wounded member, they seem to be tossed from person to person, losing parts of themselves and just becoming a mere shadow of what they were.As they try to change themselves in order to become better, they are merely just casting a shadow of what they want people to see, not who they truly are...somebody else is pulling the strings to maintain who they were, but in fact they are altering It.

My main reason for writing this is to express that I myself am a victim of this performance and in all aspects can relate. I currently feel the gloom of being someone who I am not in order to please another. I fumble stumble across this stage of a life in order to appease others and it is so tiresome. I feel as if I am not an autonomous creature at the moment and that I am anticipating the end waiting for my strings to be set free. But when this comes I am not sure whether I'll be able to function without this dominant being. 

 I am confessing to the fact that I am a puppet. Controlled in all aspects. I let him control me I let him believe that I am less than I am. He tells me that I am not once the person who he believed me to be, then surely I am not. 

As a 21 year old woman living in the 21st century I understand that I have the ability to do what I want with all my options, equality and intelligence. But I still feel 15 year old Beth being told how to act, what to say, what to do.  I also know that I have no control over my recessive side at this current moment and that I am struggling, so I will accept his invitation to play God and decide our fate. As it is the easiest route. And I am no longer strong enough to say when the end is. 

But what I will say is, is that you have more than likely read this. And I am a coward to say this to you personally, but please. If you no longer need me do not string me along as I am not your toy. I am not a prize which you can show off to your friends and not am I weak. I am just suffering at this current time within myself. And although I want you, I do not want you to feel like you have to make me perform. 

I am a puppet and a shadow of whom I once was, but I do not need an unwilling puppeteer as an owner. I need to be wanted. I want to act and sing and perform out of love, not out of duty. 

Addiction

We all have this unsatisfiable need to fill an empty void. And for me it's addiction. I'm addicted to the idea of addiction. I crave the unnecessary.

It's burning within me and it possesses me.

Lust, greed, desire. All motivators within my solemn existence. The power, the need, the want. All things which control my mortal presence.

Paper to palm, material to skin, warmth and wetness. All things which I crave to gain that sustains my fractured soul.

The fire has continued to burn. Yet I am unwilling to extinguish it.