My heart was racing as my mind was chasing after a fear I couldn’t let go of. The type of fear I wouldn’t allow anyone one to recognize because I was afraid to be done wrong. Although many might have this fear it’s not contagious. I wanted to believe this was not a second chance scheme. I remember being terrified of falling cards filled with disappointments and regrets. I recall having a broken heart shattered into pieces as I sat there thinking about all the chances I gave others. Deciding whether or not it was worth it to even reflect thoughts around second chances since, that’s my greatest fear of all.

“Don’t fall for it, don’t look back,” I whispered to myself everytime i thought about giving a second chance. The reason I despite giving second chances is because, I don’t forget words said out of anger and I most definitely don’t forget crying myself to sleep at night. Even when I forgive, I don’t forget. This fear of mine has woken me up from a nightmare, it made me realize my worth and values and if someone was going to get hurt again it was not going to be me again. Thinking I could change my past by snapping my fingers together or blinking a couple times but, reality is fatal.

I honestly think that in this world people only come back when they think it’s the most convenient for themselves. I’m just afraid to give someone a flower and watch it frown in their hands once again. I’m scared of giving second chances and missing out on better opportunities that would’ve made my flower blossom. I don’t think I’ll ever give this fear a second chance because second chances aren't my thing it’s just a conspiracy to me.

other times, i am sad.

this is almost as often as i am happy,

because they prefer to even each other out,

but my happiness has become

of more abundance of recent.

my sadness,

it’s scary.

it brings light to all of the

empty places

inside of me,

inside of the wild.

my sadness,

it’s mean.

it claws at my skin,

leaving scratches and bruises.

it hurts,

my sadness.

worse than the anger,

worse than the happiness.

my sadness is its own person -

my sadness is the empty inside -

thrown into a bottle

and given a smiley face.

what exactly

would you like to hear ?

or should I say,

how much honesty

can truly convey

the answer

I rarely sleep

barely eat

take meds

&

self cognitive

methods to cope

but never think of the rope anymore

my feet are planted,

head and heart safe

and I’m still dancing

at the end of the day

Yes, I’m alright

a damn mess

but sincerly

alright xo

Thank You Kindly for asking

I felt his presence in his absence but I could not feel his essense in his presence and when I realized this, I knew it wasn’t love.

(or maybe it wasn’t him)