I’m not sure you like me

and that’s ok

fine line between love & hate, see?

It’s rarely any other way.

You admire my spirit

how it sparks and shines

then secretly covet,

jealousy blinds.

Your eyes skim my body

i know what you need

chemistry is never our problem,

in truth it's your greed.

Driven by ego

you punish & shame

hurling insults like snowballs,

seeking others to blame.

There once was a time

i’d make efforts to conceal

my soul in its prime,

so you could feel.

Those days have passed

i’ve uncovered the truth

free at last,

toll paid with my youth.

I’m not sure you like me

and that’s ok

truth is,

I never needed you anyway.

you're beautiful.

i broke you.

you've shattered, into a mosaic.

it seems i've destroyed my very own soul.

Emotional Numbness.

Emotion Provoking.

Loud Words.

Words With Meaning.

Feeling of Safety.

Never Secure.

Chest Heaving.

Lack of Air.

Drips of Salt.

Heavy Feeling.

Pretending

I never heard those vicious words,

I dissolved my neverlasting freedom of thoughts into bubble baths.

Staring into the dusk, I always adored the moon

I shut my door and pondered

Moon had glory,

Another beautiful story

Devastated my existence by questioning my everlasting faith

Astonished, I chased evidence to prove my innocence

I have stopped cherishing the moon, it’s perhaps my flaws trapped in a cage

Pretending

I never witnessed the humiliating words

I dissolved my agony in my neverlasting mind palace

Staring into the amber dust, I always praised the sun,

I shut my door and sobbed

Sun had flare

Another prayer

Crushed my life under few filthy words, flushed my trust

I wasn’t surprised at venom rushed to trap me in, I wasn’t afraid of reputation melting to cinder,

I have stopped adoring the sun, it’s perhaps a mirror to my demon

She breaks more.

breaking intestines as she swears on stars that one day she will be light enough to fly away,

breaking her mind as her thoughts swing like the swing set where she lost her innocence to a man she called father

(back and forth, back and forth),

breaking skin to show the sun how she can glisten too

(how she can be happy too, how she can feel powerful too),

breaking her heart as she isolates herself in her basement room

(droopy eyes, drawn blinds),

breaking bones as she bashes to remind herself that she is a failure that deserves it

(over, and over)

breaking her soul with the breaking of her body with the breaking of her life

(she is hurting till she doesn’t hurt).

She breaks more

(more, and more)

because she wants to

(because she needs to, has to),

and crack by crack

(break by break)

she will

c r u m b l e.

(but she lived till today, and it’s a miracle I say)

Roses are red

and blue

I bury my dread

out of view

my love I spread

and grew

for my heart has fled

to you

Violets are blue

and red

you came through

instead

you confessed you knew

and said,

my love for you

I always bled

Sylvia Plath said, I eat men like air. If only oxygen burned that sweet. I didn't eat them, I choked on them. Men are elusive, one text away from changing the dynamic of your relationship.

Let's be friends, they say. Or, I'm seeing someone else. Words that seep into bandaids, words as cutting as knife on stone.

It's important to remember - god, I hate saying that in my writing, completely redudant if the point is made well - that we need to practice self love. These men come and go, but you: you are forever existing in the universe you call home, the lighthouse that stays on forever as you breathe.

It's hard to let go, find the space in yourself to say, I'm okay.

The scales I used to worship, the dieting, the mental subterfuge - it all led to hell. I existed in a torture vacuum, one where men defined who I was. If I was in a relationship, as tenuous as it was (and it always was(, I was whole. As whole as an orange, ripe and sweet as you tear off the skin.

Self love takes many forms, starting with self care. Hot baths, chocolate cake, yoga. Perhaps these are all things we do on Valentine's Day, the day of the year celebrating social media posts of two month anniversaries. It's imporant to remember (again, the redundancy(, that you profit from a fulfilling, intimate relationship with yourself first.

They say that you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else. I don't think this is true, but the sentiment exists, as fully as you and me, unlike any text message sent across the barriers we should separate from.

The sun ever so lightly

on the edge of twilight’s sky,

just like the promise in my ear,

the beating of the lie.

If you toil, work sufficiently,

at last therein your dreams,

but nearly not so lovely

as the land upon the seams.

Brick buildings of the deepest red

like autumn's dark ravines

will fortress you in parallel

with glassy-blue moonbeams.

The colors ache

my blackened heart

and ravage all the scene,

and there in night time’s distant sigh,

a star cries for me.

The silver nightshades blossom

in the streetlamp's bright abyss,

and I plunge further into

my sole dream’s loneliness.

in the faces of strangers

in the art of my own hands

in the smiles of the kids

on the concrete benches at our old school.

I still think about you

whenever I play cards

whenever I see a musical

whenever halloween comes round

because I wonder if it's still your favorite holiday.

I still hear you

in the voices of a crowd

in the music of the city

in every word I've never said

because I still regret leaving every day.