My body sighs when I wake up. Her feet move without prompting on a journey that leads us to the cold measurements of my worth. The first light we see each morning is not that of a blushing pink sunrise. It is angry and red. It screams at us to wake up from a nightmare we are creating.
She will tell me she’s sorry, that she will change. I’ll tell her it’s alright. We both know I’m lying. I will take us down familiar paths hoping they lead us to different destinations. She will obediently follow, acting as a vessel for my frustration. She is the parchment I use to map out the ugliest parts of my mind.
I will tell her I’m sorry. I wish it could be different. It will be different. She will whisper that it doesn’t have to be this way. I will pretend to believe her.
I will try to love her over breakfast and carefully clothe her in layers meant to protect her from the harsh judgements of others. I tell her that someday the sun will know all the parts of her. She wonders how many parts will have been lost by then. I tell her just a few more.
All day I will twist her into molds that she was never meant to fit. She will do her best but it won’t be enough.
She will ache for rest and care and my thoughts will be screaming. We will stretch and sweat until they are quiet.
We will sit in the dark together, under so many covers and layers we aren’t sure where we end and they begin. I will feel the weight of myself in the mattress and she will apologize. I’ll tell her we can try again tomorrow. She will hope that tomorrow never comes.
Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 5:30 PM UTC
"Love is the easy part,
it's everything else that's hard."
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
"Baby I'm still in love, but you never even respond."
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
My Mother told me
that today was the first day
of the rest of my life
I want you in it.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:29 PM UTC
Everything about you
makes my knees weak
and my hands tremble
You’re the reason my heart is pumping,
though it skips a few beats
and falters,
much like my words
when I try to tell you
how much you mean to me
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:26 PM UTC
I stopped writing
when I fell in love
with you
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:18 PM UTC
Don't you remember
the last time
you felt like this?
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 12:29 AM UTC
1. The world will try to tell you to move on, to forget, to suppress, but you must not let them convince you. Your body will feel like it is collapsing into itself, your lungs will stop working, and your tears will sting your cheeks. Remember to feel these things. What you are experiencing is real, and physical. Remind yourself that you are physical. Press your hand to your chest and feel your broken heart continue to thrive. Notice the way your body continues to support you when everything around you seems to be crumbling.
2. Do not hide; it is not weakness you are showing. Your emotions are the armor that no one can strip from you. Cry, argue, and scream if you must. Those who question you will not understand. Remember that your emotions are temporary but they are your own. Do not offer up excuses, you do not owe an explanation.
3. Take note of those around you. They will smile and tell you that this is only a moment that will pass, and that everything will get better. Know that they have faced death, loss, betrayal, and pain. They have felt their lungs collapse and felt the sting on their cheeks. Notice how they smile. Believe them when they tell you it will get better.
4. You must move outward. Force your broken soul to mend itself. Straighten your crooked spine, and command your lungs to accept the generosity of the air. Breathe deeply. Breathe fully. Do not take shortcuts when mending your mind. Allow yourself time to appreciate the movements around you. Join them. Take note of each step that leads you closer to your goal.
5. Finally, remember that you are alive. Look toward someone with a broken heart. Take their hand. Smile. Remind them that it will get better.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
He told me commitment was too hard
with a cigarette in his mouth
and tattoos across his skin
-h.w.
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC