- My name is Amanda. Which means "Worthy of Love" in Latin. Ironically enough, my biggest hang up in life is that I don't believe I'm worthy of it.
9/16/10
A wound, an ache
that never stops bleeding.
Slices to my core
tearing me into pieces.
So I obfuscate the idea and
talk myself in circles,
trying to get away from it.
The answer seems simple.
Cover up the pain
Attempt to suffocate it away.
Drown myself in intimacy, attention,
intercourse, love.
If I'm touched enough,
maybe I'll quit believing
in that small
but potent voice
that degrades me everyday.
The insidious viral infection
that permeates my being will wither away.
p.s. most of my poetry relates to intense emotions, or taking an emotion and expanding and illucidating it. Which means most of them are sad. *I* am a generally very happy person. Do not let my writing fool you.
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