When your friends go on about their crushes
do not feign interest in a boy just to blend in
tell them you would rather kiss girls even though that scares you
tell them you’re confused but
do not lie
When your uncle asks if you prefer Gail or Peta
explain to him that you like Katniss
that her female form strikes you more
than any teenage boy could
And when a girl comes up to you and offers to tell you a secret
listen to her
she will become the first love of your life
When a priest tells you that the way you feel is wrong
spit in his face
who you are is not a sin
and his cross is the biggest lie of all
When you start getting feelings for your best friend
do not ignore them
contemplate what it means to feel
and how friendship differs from love
When you can only imagine kissing her every time you see her
do not feel ashamed
your feelings are healthy and valid
and you deserve the same in return
And when you cry so much your eyes swell up
do not cry for her
I used to feel an aching sorrow
in my chest
as if every mistake I had ever
made had been piled on top
and although I have since been
relieved of that weight
I do no feel light
I do not feel free
Like a soaring bird heading
to find warmth
all I feel is anticipation
for a journey to a
destination I am still
and that is a weight
of its own
I constantly reopen old wounds
hoping that maybe they won’t hurt as much this time
hoping that maybe I really have moved on
but perhaps I’ll never “move on”
as much as become accustomed to it
too well acquainted with the cuts you
left on me
too familiar with this painful
to ever let them fully heal
It comes in bursts,
like the rising and falling
of a fickle storm
with no end or
and like a storm
It is wet and violent,
and beautiful to those
who watch from
blissful and far removed.
Sometimes I seek comfort
in the storm;
in the rage, the tears,
the spiraling thoughts
and emptiness I do not
wish to feel, yet
it is all I have ever
felt. And we all
cling to the familiar.
And sometimes it still hurts.
Sometimes I still feel the lingering sting of it all,
a memory long gone, slowly fading, but still within sight.
And sometimes I have nightmares about you
that give me shivers and cold sweats,
the image of your screaming face still imprinted in my mind.
But you were poison oak and my skin was much too fragile
to make it out unscathed.
And sometimes I can still feel the bruises you left behind,
jamming my fingers into them,
as they weep like tiny stab wounds.
And I am left here,
still trying to wipe your name from my tongue,
and oh how bitter it tastes.
My heart yearns for you
Aching with the solemnity
As my fingers reach out to caress
Your soft frame
Yet all I can feel
Are the empty sheets
And dusty pillow
On the side of the bed
Where you used to lay
And I can’t help but wonder
If my hands will ever stop
Searching for you
But I have yet to discover
Whether that is either
A blessing or a
Don’t cry for me
I cry enough for myself every day
And the tears I shed
Burn like acid as they
Stream down my cheeks
But my heart still beats
And my lungs still breathe
And I am still standing
This is not about you.
This is not about about all those times you made me feel worthless and pathetic or how you spat my own name in my face like a curse.
This is not about how your betrayal ripped a giant gaping hole in my heart that I have not yet even begun to patch up. I can only keep ripping off the bandaid to remind myself of what it feels like to hurt.
And this is not about how your name will forever feel like acid on my tongue, burning the back of my throat as I try to smother the urge to scream it out into the night.
This is not about you.
This is about me.
This is about all the hurt and torment I have endured as I passively watched you set me on fire. This is about my struggle to love myself to fill the hole that you made, as you left me to fend for myself like a lonely and wounded animal.
This about how I will rise high above the flames and spread my hatred like wildfire, so that maybe one day, it might reach you.
This is about how I hope neither heaven nor hell will take you, for you would surely be a disappointment to both.
So, no. This is not about you.
This is about me,
like it always has been.
I love you.
I don’t know how else to phrase it.
Just the thought of you brings the biggest grin to my lips
I want you to be successful and happy and mentally stable and never have any significant worries or fears
I want you to have everything you have ever wanted even if what you want may seem unattainable at times
I want you to feel safe and loved and I want you to be able to trust, no matter how frightening and intimate it can be
But most of all, I want you to know that you are loved
Not just by me but by so many others
Because you matter
You are important
You are you
And that is more than enough.
All I’ve ever known
Was how to bleed in ink
To tear my paper with my pen
And never stop to think
To rip apart my insides
And spill them on my page
Watching them form silent words
Of wisdom, hope, and rage