I write to myself
I'm the one that gets
I write to myself
I'm the only one that cares

I have so much to say
So much to put out there
But nobody wants to listen
I just want to share

A little bit of what's suffocating me
I could record an audio for this
And it would be easier for you to listen than to read
But there's a lump in my throat
No words around here
I lost my voice
So please, would you read?

I don't want to meet
I want to write to you
And asked why you left me
But you don't want to read

And I want to ask my friend's
What is wrong with me
Ask what they think made you leave
But they are too tired to read

And I poured
And poured
And then poured some more
I became too much to handle
To everyone

Everyone I love tells me to "just move on"
But I gave you everything
And then you were gone

I gave you my words
I screamed from the bottom of my throat
But it wasn't enough

I wrote a thousand pleas
Showed every ounce of my soul
And it doesn't make sense to me
When I asked you to stay
You left me on "read"

Imaginary talks
Going around in a spiral
Getting further, but never quite there
I have answers for every question
You have never asked

Imaginary talks
Even when they were real
They were still imaginary
Because the words I longed for
Never left your mouth

Imaginary talks
Because I'm blocked
I keep sending everything to your DMs
In case you see it
But I know you won't

Imaginary talks
Of us today in bed, playing games
While outside, the rain reigns
We loved these kinds of days
But it will never be the same

Imaginary talks
Of what you're saying to her
Now you've replaced me
You're doing so well, doesn't it hurt?

I've met some broken people
Broken in the same way I am
I didn't seek this out
I'm not good at "friends"

But I've met some broken people
Who saw the stitches right where they are
Didn't ask many questions about it
They asked not about my problems, but about me

I've met some broken people
Who made me feel less lonely in my hurt
I'm not special, not the only one
But when I'm cared about
I feel like even a dead star can glow

Some broken people met me
And I didn't make them feel bad about their past
Nor find meanness in their darkness
Because we're broken, our empathy lasts

Four broken people
Coming together to heal a little bit
An afternoon watching movies and playing games
Finding that broken people make my world a better fit

All the poetry I've written about us
Had no love, only hurt.
How did I not see
We were doomed from the first week?
How did I
Ignore what I wrote
And keep myself so blind?
I won't give my heart and words
To another broken soul
For my love was sold to a selfish and bold
Person who broke all that I own.

I want to kiss your face
and play with your hair,
but we're far gone, dead—
how can love still be there?

I know it won't come back to life,
but I want to hold you once more.
I want to spend the night;
I want the warmth of your love.

Do you miss my hug?
Do you crave my scent?
If you truly loved me,
why didn't you show me then?

I know we're broken;
there's no way to mend.
But if I just want you for the night,
do you think we can?

To write,
To take an intangible thing—
A feeling,
An idea—
And translate it into coherent words
That another rational being can grasp,
Through these structured arrangements of letters,
The emotions and thoughts
Of someone entirely unique.
How can one not be awed by writing?
How can one not see its magic
In our capacity to share
What resides deep within our souls?

You refuse to look inward
And ask the big questions.
You refuse to open your mind
To a few new perceptions.
How do you want the answer
If you don't do the sessions?
I hope you find what you want,
But life doesn't make exceptions.