Healing
There’s things/people I will never forgive. However: I will forgive myself for abusing myself after what happened to me, and that will lift the weight of other’s actions off my shoulders. I do not deserve that treatment. Not from anyone else, and especially not from myself. I am sorry to, as well as forgive, myself for allowing myself to treat me in that way. I will not be sorry for what happened to me, nor will I forgive those people. I am no longer bitter, but I will forever fight. I will let that previous anger and resentment in me grow me into a better, more loving person. But a better, more loving person that no longer allows any unfair treatment to myself and I will fight for anyone that also has that chip on their shoulder and piece broken out of their heart.
What is grief?
What is grief?
Google says it’s a feeling of deep sorrow. Which is what I feel. Why do I feel it? I lost a family member.
The real reason I’m questioning is that I didn’t know her. Am I allowed to feel sorrow for her death, when we didn’t know each other? When I was born where she lived, yet she never wanted to meet or hold me? When she had asked my mother to get rid of me before I had the opportunity to exist? Part of me says no, I shouldn’t miss this unknown lady on my fathers’ side of the family.
But there’s the side of me that wonders. What did her voice sound like, what was her favorite food and perfume, did we look alike? I feel a pang of sadness inside me for the little girl that will never have the answers. I could ask and receive the answers, yes, but it’s not the same as knowing them through experience.
Do I cry over her?
Am I allowed to cry over a stranger with the same last name, same blood?
Do I ask around, trying to find an older lady with her first name, see if it’s the same?
Do I believe that maybe I’ll meet her the day we’re both lucky enough to get to heaven if it’s there?
Do I fly there, find the rest of the family, and try to be held by them, even with the anxiety that they can turn me away?
Or do I just sit here, questioning each thought that goes through my mind, no direction?
What the answers are, I fear I’ll never know. I can’t sit here and Google those like I can a definition. Maybe that’s okay, maybe I won’t get the answers to these questions, but to others. Maybe there’s someone out there, wondering the same, and there’s comfort in the confusion.
Why does someone write?
Why do I write?
That’s a hard question to answer. I write for many reasons. I’ve never been good with words, that’s always been a big struggle of mine, and somehow writing makes it easier. Maybe it’s that I can stop and erase my thoughts, which I can’t do while speaking. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t have to have a conversation with someone, rather I can just sit and make sense of the mess in my mind. I enjoy writing because I can listen to music and get inspired by other people's words, gather my words a little better.
Sometimes I prefer writing over speaking because something is just too hard for me to say out loud, it’s personal, and writing it makes it easier to say. I can write a letter and leave it for that specific person, not have to see their reactions as I say what I need to say.
I remember when I wrote my first poem. I was a wreck, I couldn’t get any words out without crying more with each attempt of a syllable, but I was able to stop my shaking long enough to type out just a few lines of my soul. After that, I found it was easier to write about other things in my life, current or not. I wrote about self-harm, eating disorders, depression, anxiety, sexual assault and other abuse I experienced, heartbreak, love, anything that I felt in that moment is what I wrote about. It would just come out and was easier to share, not having to look someone in the face while I explained what was going on in my mind.
I can’t remember the first person I shared with, and I can’t remember if they’re still in my life currently, but I know at that moment that I shared part of my soul, they meant something to me, they were an important person in my life. Even though I can’t remember, I do hope they’re still in my life and I speak with them regularly. If not, I hope the best for them.
I haven’t written in a while, this is the first thing I’ve written in about three months. I’ve had a lot in life and just haven’t managed to get the words out properly. That’s an issue for me with writing, I feel as though it has to be perfectly constructed the first time around. That’s the same reason why I’m not big on conversation, because I stumble over my words constantly and beat myself up for it, yay being a perfectionist. I’m not too great at small talk either, I’d rather hear all about someone’s life. I want to know about fears, loves, favorite things and why it’s their favorite, insecurities, their hopes and dreams. I long to know the small details of someone’s life, and maybe that’s why I write. I’m able to share things that may seem small to someone else but could be larger than life to me.
So, why do I write?
Any and every reason. I want to share my soul with someone, to let someone inside my mind. Maybe I want to be ‘relatable’ or seem ‘cool’, maybe I think someone will read it and I can connect with that person, make a friend through one of my thoughts. I think that’s the reason anyone writes in the end, to make a connection with another person. Humans crave connection and words can help, whether it’s a book or a favorite poem, you can always meet someone that will relate to something that someone said.
After Relapse
Body, forgive me.
I didn't treat you with the love and respect you deserve.
A few people in life had such an impact on the way I treated you.
Body, forgive me.
Because one pereson did something after I said no, I turned on you.
Body, forgive me.
For all the times I didn't nourish you, thinking it's what I deserved.
Body, forgive me.
For all the scars I gave you. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Body, forgive me.
I still struggle with myself, with wanting to take care of you.
Body, forgive me.
You've been nothing but kind.
Body, forgive me.
I have been a monster.
Body, forgive me.
I promise I will try and do better.
Body, please forgive me so I can forgive myself.
(This poem was inspired by Relapse by Blythe Baird.)
A letter for you
Hey,
In case you were wondering about the things I like about you, I'm writing a whole letter for the internet to see. Will you see this? Let me know.
Where should I start? There's so many things about you that I just love to admire. The prettiest green eyes with flecks of gold, but you'll always tell me they're hazel. A smile that can light up the entire room. The softest brown hair. You have soft, gentle, kind hands and a light voice, like a melody to a song I could listen to for the rest of my life, and a laugh that puts a smile on everyone's faces.
Your eyelashes, the shape of your nose and lips. I long for your touch, when you're running your fingers through my hair and scratching my head or just running your fingers along my arm while we watch Netflix.
You never fail to make me happy, calm, and safe. Everything about you is comforting, you are my best friend and a soulmate, and I know that with all our little things we do together. How we can be silly together, knowing the other isn't judging. Life with you is amazing, and I can't wait to keep laughing with you.
I'll see you soon.
When love turns to heartbreak
I miss the way things used to be,
Laying in the bed, you and me.
Laughing until we cried
Telling each other everything
But all of that died.
Was it all just a game?
All alone, I couldn't believe
How you could do that to me
The lies, the knife in the back,
I thought we would last forever
You told me the same
Now, I see that you were really saying 'never'
You really were just playing a cruel game.
What is love?
When you think of love, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?
Butterflies, right? I don’t believe that’s love, I believe that it’s a step into love but not love itself. Love, to me, is the feeling of home. Knowing that after a hard day, you get to be somewhere comfortable, safe, caring. When you step into home, you breathe deep and it smells familiar. Maybe it’s the scent of your favorite candle, hoodie, t-shirt, or food. Just familiar. Love is the melody of your favorite song, or someone’s laughter.
Maybe it’s the way you observe in the background, watching people pass and live their lives. It’s the toothless grin when a baby sees their mother, or maybe cuddling with your dog after a bad day at work.
Love is like the feeling of hot chocolate and hot shower after you’ve been outside playing in the snow. The feeling of an embrace after you’ve just been crying, or someone running their fingers through your hair.
Love could also be just something as simple as being on the phone with someone for a long time, but not even talking, just being near. Sitting in silence as you each do your own thing, like read or do logic puzzles.
Love is all around, it’s the kindness of a stranger paying for your meal in the drive-through, unaware that one small act of kindness changed your whole day for the better (maybe even in that moment, changed your life).
Love is simple moments, like driving around late at night in your favorite city with your favorite person. Windows down, blasting music, just feeling free in that moment as you sing and laugh the night away.
Love is probably one of the most simple yet complex things in the world. It’s also the most magical, so when you realize love, stay in that moment. Always remember it, always know you will find it again.
Truth
Green was never my favorite color
Until I looked into your eyes
I heard what you said to me
And I saw no lies
You tried to put on a brave face
But I saw through the disguise
You don't always have to be strong
It's okay to show a weaker side
I have your back
Through thick and thin
I always have and I always will
Until the very end.
Blue was always my favorite color
That was the one before you
All that brough was pain and suffering
And I never thought that love could be true
We've never even met
But I still know you're the one
People wonder if you're a threat
But I know that can't be true
I look at you and I'm home
There's nothing else to do.
Just friends
Is all we'll ever be
Just friends
You and me
People thought we were dating
I wanted to
But I'd rather be
"Just friends"
Than lose you.