i sat down to write because i felt the need to. i didn't expect to realise that i am so scared to be close to anyone, to love anyone in any form as truly as i know i can because i have never recieved in my relationships the love i give back to myself so freely, every forgiveness, every kindness. i also realised i cannot love anyone truly until i learn to love myself better. but i am so lonely. i am isolating from everybody i know with a dull awareness about it all. i can feel my friemdships slipping between my fingers. i am watching, letting it happen, pushing for it a little because only i know how to hurt myself best. why am i doing it? a thousand reasons and not one i can name. bottling and not sorting and living here in this house hoping to write something that strays from the topic of me, and my hurt, and those who hurt me, and the hurt in the world, and the hurt and the hurt and the hurt. i want to write a poem so rich in flavour but i write a variation of the same thing every time. i think i want to disconnect from feeling like this but i am so scared of becoming the people i live with. i think i don't know what i want. this poem is nothing special but i'm surprised to find myself liking it.

i realised that you do not always get to decide what you are defined by: and i am defined by this relationship, whether by choice or by consequence, or both. you do not choose who your father is, you can only choose how to make sense of what he's done. he will be so deeply woven into your flesh by the time you can see it for yourself, and by then you are already in the aftermath

i modified a poem i wrote for my dearest friend mahnoor 2 years ago. in a city so cruel, and a place that's been ruined for me in memory, she was the light. she has always been a source of sweetness for me and nothing but. to cultivate a friendship so strong with her is something i want to always get better at doing. there is truly nobody as good and kind and as much of an angel. blanket with sleeves is in reference to the blanket with sleeves she owns and i envy :( she gave me chocolates for my birthday & when i met her in 2019 at her house she had this cute plate of small chocolates prepared. i have taken notes and will steal the idea. her name means moonlight so i will always associate her with the moon more than anything else. what i wanted to tell her in this poem was initially that i am so glad to be able to call her my friend and for her to choose me to be by her side after all of this time and after any times i've wronged her is something i value more than i ever say. the last line is borne out of a time where i took my friendships for granted, and doubted them, and honestly, i think the reckoning that (to my relief) came out clean should be me instead. i do love to have tunnel vision though. not to dwell on the past, though. i just love her so much and promise to write a better poem than this for her one day!! and we dont count the other poem i titled friend and wrote with u in mind because its just very insecure and i dont like it

i find you in the worst of me, the blood on my hands is always yours