For Leaving

When ever something bad happens I always go searching for the poetry that will be able to bring what I am feeling alive in to words; now I no longer turn to others words for the comfort- Instead I craft them in my own soul and let them spill out on to paper; for a long time- I refused to write about you; how your laughter always could bring me home; how our love was as close to perfection I think anyone could dream of reaching; how this love was not enough to save us- to save you; when the sadness begins to ignite itself in the dark of the night- that is when I feel most close to you; I know that darkness has a home inside of us all- which is why I do not blame you for wanting to leave; for actually leaving; you often spoke of the sin of our love- the way the innocence of it angered you; how could something that felt so natural- be deemed so wrong- so disgusting; I think we both knew that our love was not wrong- that we are not wrong; but you can only have the judgement of others hatred carved down your spine so many times- before you start to believe- we might be broken; when you left- there was an aching emptiness lighting up every room I walked into; every night I talk to the stars- hoping maybe we are still looking up at the same sky; hoping that the moon and the sun are able to keep you safe; I still write love letters to you- leaving them everywhere I go- hoping that- wherever you are- you are able to find them; I think we both knew we would not always be together; we both knew our love was not meant to last forever; but- is that not what young love is supposed to be- stupid and unforgiving; we both would promise that we would never burn in the fire right in front of us- that we would not let this love go up in flames- and in a way- I guess we did that; in the end I was the only one to get burned; sometimes- I still do not understand how you could just walk away- why you never did really say goodbye; when the wind blows- I can still hear your whispers in the night- I wish you were here now; this loneliness lives in every room I enter; I am sorry this loneliness lived with you too; I am sorry that it lied to you about who you are and about who you could become; I am sorry that I could not save you from it; I am sorry that some days I am still mad at you for leaving; for leaving; for leaving; for- never being able to come back.

Secrets/Honesty

I try to find safety within the walls of my own body; I know there will come a day where I will no longer see my body as the enemy; where I will no longer wake up and see my body in the shape of a knife- looking to cut out all of the broken parts of me; the secrets we keep from ourselves are often the most dangerous ones; we all want to think of our bodies as our homeland- as the place safety will always come home to; but some of us are not that lucky; I often find myself wondering whether or not you are one of the lucky ones; sometimes- I miss the version of you that existed when we first met; the version of you that seemed to understand me; now- I do not always know how to carry your love- most of the time it just feels too heavy; let me carve you the stories of my traumas as I pull them from the depths of my body; let me show you how everyday I bathe in the well of my own secrets; let me help you love me again; let me help me love me again; one day- I saw the sun set in your eyes- this sorrow connected us so deeply- it was hard to tell where your hatred for me ended and where mine began; your hatred for me- was supposed to be a secret- as is my hatred for myself; I do not always want to be the keeper of your secrets; this honesty lives somewhere deep in my chest; I do not know if I will ever tell anyone the whole truth- but I am hoping to tell parts of it; the scars on my arm tell me maybe the truth is not hidden so deep inside of me- maybe I am not as hard to read as I thought I was; one night we lie on the floor laughing together; right now you do not look as scary as usual; I want this moment to never end; my biggest hope is that you feel the same way.

My True Heart

When the wind blows- I can hear the whispers of my true heart beating against the sky; salvation lays her head on the backs of the broken- she beckons me to come with her as she patiently helps me wash the shame off of all of me; she smiles as she tells me stories of my true heart; she tells me there will come a day where my true heart will hold all of this shame in her palms- not her fists- because she will not hide it away because she will no longer be afraid of it; I will no longer be afraid of it; I try to remember a dream I had- one of a girl who was well; she resembled me- but her life was full of light; I know this version of me exists somewhere; I know she is out there holding onto my true heart; how lucky we are to have a heart somewhere out there still pouring out love even when we do not always feel it- or see it; I know there are multiple versions of my heart that exist; I separate them by categorizing them as before the bad things happened- and after the bad things happened; I do not think one heart is less deserving than the other- I just think they are different- the way there are different versions of yourself for everyone in your life- there are different versions of your heart for every moment throughout your life; sometimes- I wonder about his true heart- I wonder if it was with him the day he raped me- I really hope that it was not; I hope like me- he was searching for his true heart too; I hope he found it; I know evil is never born- it is always created; salvation visits me regularly- she shows me there is more out there to live for; she tells me who I am now is not who I will always be; I spend my days trying to figure out how to go home to a body I no longer want- I spend my days trying to figure out how to run away from this body; I know my true heart will not have to spend her days doing this; I know my true heart will not see victim as her only trait that still lives; I know my true heart will not let the shame and grief take over all of who she is; I know there will be a day where the world will not feel as small- or as big- as the space my body takes up; and try not to worry- because I know my true heart will be coming home so soon.

The River

They pull a girl from a river somewhere- and I cannot help but wonder- will that ever be me? I am sitting here trembling as I tell you the darkest secret I have ever held on to- and you ask me if I ever actually said no- you wonder- out loud- if maybe I did not fight as hard as I could have; I want to tell you about the river and the girl they just pulled out of it- how everyone is trying to figure out what she did wrong, what she could have done better; they put more effort into blaming her than actually trying to find the person who did it; there are days where I feel my shame walks into the room before I do- where the world feels no bigger than the house I hide myself away in; when the boy calls me a dyke- all I can see is that river; there have been many rivers in my life; when the man told me I would be prettier if I would just smile; when the man told me if I just relaxed it would not hurt; when the man laughed and told me- you know you are so small; and I realize- I am so small- and this world is so big; and there are so many many men; and even more rivers.

The Loneliest Thing I’ve Ever Done

It was the day you told me you loved me; except it sounded more like you were trying to remind yourself that is what you are supposed to say- what you are supposed to feel; it always seems to feel like that- like asking you to love me is asking for way too much; every day I break my ribs to try to fit them perfectly within yours; showing you I will do anything for you- showing myself that the world shatters around me everyday, but so far- I have yet to shatter with it- but maybe I am breaking with it little by little; this loneliness floats through the room carrying whispers of abandonment; one night I ask you to tell me the story of your first love; to tell me the story of how wrong it seemed to others- but how right it felt to you- every time you tell the story- I hope to find myself somewhere in there; I don’t know how I got here most days- why I am so hell-bent on getting you to love me; one day you tell me- it’s pathetic really, how I will follow you anywhere- like a lost dog just looking for some place to turn- when you laugh I try not to cry; loving you has been the loneliest thing I have ever done; one night you trace the tattoos on my arms- you ask me how I could do something that will plague my body forever; I look away as I realize you do not understand the weight of your question; this is the only place on my body that you have never been- it is the only place that has not been plagued by you.

Alternate Universe Where I Think I May Love You

The sun is beginning to rise and your love is the first thing I feel; when we share our bodies with each other I will not cry- and even when I do you love me anyway; which makes me love you more; sometimes, I feel your sadness pounding it’s fists against the walls- just begging for a way out- in these moments I feel like you understand me more than anyone- I feel like we can almost be the same person; when your anger starts to glow through your body and out into the world- I do not get scared- because in this world your anger is not directed at me; in this world I like to think you really truly do love me; which is to say- I don’t think I love you, but I also don’t hate you- but in this alternate universe I think there’s a chance I may love you; in this alternate universe we can be anything we want; which is why one day- when the sun is beginning to rise and your love is the first thing I feel; I will crawl out of bed slowly- as I pick up the bags I packed days before- I will not look back, I will not say goodbye; because my leaving is my way of saying- I think I may love you.

Moments

Everyone always wants to point out the bad about you; they say to forget the good times because even monsters can look beautiful in certain light; in the beginning- I tried to see what everyone else saw; the way your anger splintered the walls- the way every morning I would slowly try to place them back together- the way I always told myself, we are not broken- I am not broken; but maybe being broken is okay- things do not always have to be pieced together so perfectly, it is okay for things to be a part sometimes; there are days where you have burned me so badly- yet I still do not hate you; sometimes, the weight of your words causes bruises to bloom all over my soul and spill out onto my body; one night we lie together crying; one night we lie together laughing; one night we just lie together; I want these moments to be the most important things I do in all my life.

For Ellie

She’s the only one there to save me from my nightmares; there are so many nightmares- she looks at me with her big brown eyes and gently lays her head on mine, her heartbeat is always what brings me back to safety; I love her more than I love anything- she has saved me more than she will ever know; you see no one wanted Ellie- she was the last one left in her litter all because her back legs didn’t work- all because she wasn’t perfect; from the moment I first held her I knew I was never letting her go, her heart now has a home in mine; her love is a light in the middle of a dark forest- in the center of a broken home; on the days where happiness feels like an emotion that exists nowhere in my body- she still can make me laugh; while the waves of my life drown me over and over again, me and Ellie continue to save each other everyday; I know we really truly love each other- in the most forgiving way; the morning comes, and once again I do not know how I will make it out of my bed- how to make it through another day- Ellie lays her head on my chest and looks at me once again with her big brown eyes reminding me we will get through it together, reminding me I’m no longer alone; her heartbeat once again brings me back to safety, telling me we have to get up- the day is calling; and once more we will save each other all over again- like we do every single day.

Victim/Survivor

I never knew darkness could be so loud- how powerful memories can be when you can’t quite remember them; he embodies every trauma I have ever experienced- when the front door of the house inside of your soul has been broken down so many times it is easy to feel abandoned- like no one in the world will ever be on your side; I know victim and survivor are just two words with the same meaning- but one is just so much more powerful than the other- more respected; I wonder which one you see me as- I wonder which one I see myself as; I want to know when I’ll stop apologizing for what happened, when will safety make its much awaited debut back into my life again; the counselor tells me I can tell her what happened- the counselor begs me to tell her what happened- the counselor constantly calls me a victim; it’s only when I stop talking to her about it does she refer to me as a survivor- I wonder if she realizes that she’s the one who begged me to talk about it in the first place.

I Want You to Love Me

While lying in bed at night I see your face and wonder how deep the darkness lives; the pain goes through to my bones, a constant reminder of where you once were; I wonder, does the moon envy the sun for their brightness, I hope she knows her light is just as powerful; I know you understand the shame more than I understand it myself- you are the reason for it even being alive in the first place- I confess all of my sins to you, even though I don’t really believe they are sins, but I know you do- and I will do anything you want me to; just so I can feel your love; I will do anything you say because I want you to love me- you believe my scars are disgusting- I know this because of the way you look at them; because of the way you look at me- I agree with you; but I do not know if I love you or not; but I want you to love me; so I believe every word you say.

When Light Fades To Dark

Every morning the bright yellow ball caresses the earth- demanding everyone to be aware of its existence; always rising in the east and setting in the west- its presence will forever be counted on; but- with light- always follows darkness; when the light begins to fade- the darkness will shortly follow; this darkness creeps in ever so slightly; until- all in an instant there is nothing but blackness surrounding you; but- when the light fades to dark- there is one thing you can always count on; the magnificent ball of light will always rise again; and the beauty it beholds will take everyone’s breath away all over again.

You Could be my Father

When an older customer informed me

that he liked skinny girls and

he wanted me to come to his house,

if no one else heard,

could I pretend it never happened?

But when the woman behind him laughed

as I stood there hearing nothing

but his comments,

her laugh,

and my heartbeat clawing its way up my chest

I could no longer pretend it did not happen

it became as real as the sun shining outside

and the blaze was terrifying

as it took my breath away and made me feel faint-

in that moment I loathed him.

and her.

and myself.

I hated myself for having a body

and I hated myself merely

for hating myself.

this feeling was all too familiar

it was the same feeling I had when

the man told me my jeans were too tight

or when the delivery guy hugged me

or when countless other men

provided me with unwanted comments and touch.

In these moments I wanted my

flesh to become one with the walls

and I thought maybe if I stared hard enough

at the ground I could become it.

I did not realize that having

a body was an invitation

for others to say or do whatever they pleased.

Honesty

The honesty lives somewhere deep in my chest, I don’t know if I will ever tell anyone the whole truth- but I’m hoping to tell parts of it; the scars on my arm tell me maybe the truth isn’t hidden so deep inside of me- maybe I’m not as hard to read as I thought I was; one night we lay on the floor laughing together, right now she doesn’t look as scary as usual. I want this moment to never end; my biggest hope is that she feels the same.