Finally

It's over.

I'm free.

I don't have to care anymore.

I am just myself.

You are just you.

There is no we anymore,

and I am beyond grateful.


I used to love peanut butter.

I still appreciate it in certain moments.

I do not need peanut butter every day.

I do not need you.


I love you.

I want you to be happy.


I love me.

I want me to be happy.


I can finally see that I'm allowed to be happy.

I can finally see that I don't need anyone else.

I don't need you.

I am free.


I haven't smoked a cigarette in two days.

The longest I've gone while being able to smoke.

This is my choice.

For me.


I don't need anything.

Just me.

I just need me and my love for me.


And fuck, I love myself.

I'm happy.

Thief

You've stolen me.

Changed me.

Molded me into a better,

Brighter,

Self.


It's painful to admit,

That I let you in.


That I trust you.

That I love you.


I'm scared.

This is familiar.

I've been scared so long.

It's a basic reaction now.


Fear turns to anger.

And I am so god-damn angry.

I want to throw things.

I want to scream.

I want to steal back what you took.


I want to break myself and you.

I want this because I can't stand this vulnerability.

If I break it, perhaps I can pull away.

Perhaps I can get myself back.


But I know I can't.

I know that we are tied together.

I know that, though I hate this prison, I love it more.


You were a thief.

And I am scared.

And I am angry.


And I am in love.

Stubborn

Why do I push?

I refuse, without thought,

To move.

You request so little,

Yet to do what you ask,

I must shift,

And so it is

Impossible.

Why do I act like this?

I have no reason to live defensively.

You are kind and flexible.

Yet I see in checkerboard.

This or that.

Here or there.

Her or me.

There is a middle,

I must remind myself.

There are more than two sides.

There are more solutions,

Though my brain appears to break at the thought.

I force. 

I would rather stand firm than shift even a hair.

You are an elastic band.

Bending and conforming to the situation.

I just sit, rooted.

Trapped in my own conviction.

There is good in being stubborn.

This is not the good part.

This is the part that breaks.

I am already coated in imperfection.

I am blemished.

How many more times will I survive?

As strong as I may seem, there is always a breaking point.

How does a mountain learn to bend?

Painfully, it seems.

The End.

I can't reach you.

You've built a wall I cant hope to breach.

We used to dance,

Sing,

Love.


We were what others hoped to one day have.


I'm helpless for solutions.

I have tried so much.

Now every single answer,


It just seems to lead to the end.


I can't keep going alone.

We're supposed to be a team.

A partnership.


I'm angry.

I'm angry because I'm frustrated.


You sit on the couch in silence.

You don't speak to me.


Until she comes home,

I'm led to believe you're not home either.


Once she entered our lives,

I thought this was good.

That we could grow.

Expand.


Instead she became a wedge.

Between us,

Building that fucking wall.


Now we sit.

In this god awful,

Soul tearing,

Thousand needles to the eyes,

Screamingly loud,

Silence.


We were music.

We were tearful laughter.

Passionate breath.

Clasped hands.

Dancing.

We were good.


We were so fucking good.


Slow and quick.

Painful yet inevitable.

The end is coming.

It's coming and I just cant find any other way.


Your smile isn't something I coax from your lips anymore.

Your laugh no longer for me.

Witty one liners exchanged over dinner, well, im sure you know where this is going.


You've taken the one thing I treasured.

You've taken yourself from me.


And now as much as I struggle.

As much as I scream.

As much as I cry.


It looks like the end is coming.


And I'm just so fucking scared.

Peace

I am filled.

Something warm, soft, and full.

I sit outside.

The air is crisp.

The chill does nothing to lessen the heat within.

Purity.

Acceptance.

Love.

All of these words hint at all that's inside,

Yet none describe

Quite well enough.

I can feel.

I'd forgotten what that was like.

I'd gotten so used to living in a dull grayscape,

I didn't realize all of the colors I had been missing.

As the season turns, 

I transform.

I can fly now.

What I didn't know

Was that I had wings all along.

I am finding that the mountain I was climbing,

Doesn't have to be so daunting.

With gentle hands, I was shown,

The mountain is little more than a molehill.

Words are flowing now.

A dam now unblocked,

Letting free what I didn't know was trapped.

Life is good.

I didn't know that I had forgotten what good was.

Now I know.

Now I know, and I am so fucking grateful.

I am grateful.

I am at peace.

Dirty Dishes

Cups on the table
Old
Crusty

A fly sits
On the lip
Of one

I'm disgusted

Not with the mess
But with
Myself

I can't move

I'm paralyzed

I think of that fly

It feeds on scraps

A scavenger

I am covered in flies

I am a scrap of myself

A scrap of what I once was

These dirty dishes
Piled
Covered in mold

I'm disgusted

Even if I clean them
Scrub them under boiling water
They are still tainted

I am still

Tainted

i want to scream

There's so much.

Too much.

Rampaging.

A vortex within me.

I'm scared.

So fucking scared.


Is she better?

Am I not enough?

Will I ever be enough?


I am a failure

Of epic proportion.


Broken.

A barren landscape,

With only echoes

Of what once was

Lush.


She is a garden.

Pure.

Full.

Kind.


I am a coward.

Perhaps,

I should step back.

Let two

Beautiful creatures

Find each other.


I am selfish.

You're mine.

Fuck you.

I love you.


I do not

Express in words aloud,

The words that come

So easily

To paper.


Is that it?

I am not open to feeling?


I have given.

I have spoken.

I have completely dismantled

My box,

My cage,

My comfort.

I have done this

For you.


I have changed

Fundamentally.

I have learned

Immensely.

All so you can feel sure

That I love you.


I do.

I love you with every breath

Born of my abused lungs.

I love you with every absent

Brush of hands.

I love you with every freckle,

I hate,

But you adamantly claim are cute.


I love you.

With every year that passes.

With every star I ponder.

With every raindrop that falls.

I love you.


I am selfish.

I want to scream.

I cannot be selfish with you.

You

Who are so kind and giving.

I cannot take

From you

What might be your happiness.


I love you.

I want to scream.

Instead, I will sew

These sinful lips

Shut.

I will love.

And perhaps, I will lose.