Hold your own hand Sarah
Because no one is going to hold it for you
No one is going to hold it for you
No one is going to hold it for you
No one is going to be there for you when you need it the most
No
Sometimes
You're going to be alone
So hold your own hand Sarah
When no one else will at least you will have yourself
Your strength
Rivals that of 1000 bulls
And When your hands come together
You can harness that
The strength your mother
Infused into your bones
Interlocking
fingers twisted together in a lonely vigil
their only company the half painted fingernails that adorn them
Fingernails
That can only ever scratch the surface of the potential you possess
You
Have potential
An unknown future laid out in front of you
Scaring you away from possible opportunities
Hold your own hand Sarah
Stop
Second guessing your abilities
You
Look at yourself in the mirror
And see
A beautiful person
Hidden
By a mask of pretty features
You
Are chaos.
A
Fire burning
With
Invisible flames
Only you can see.
Your
Beauty is visible
But only to yourself
Others
Don't see the real you.
While
You see flames dancing
They
See a brick wall with no doors
No windows
No way in
Your
Mind a forbidden garden
Except
No one even knows it exists
See
How can anyone want in on something
When they don't even know it exists
Do you even know I exist?
Hold your own hand Sarah
Hold my hand Sarah
Your consciousness
Witnessing all your poor decisions
More divisions, all created by you
Distancing yourself from those you love most
And blaming it on them
Blaming it on time
Even though you never seem to know how to spend yours productively
Hold my hand Sarah
Maybe if you
Grabbed hold of yourself
Grabbed hold of your mind
Territory that's mine
Then you'd figure a thing or two out about how to
Straighten yourself out.
Hold my hand Sarah
I promise I'll never let you down if you would just
Hold my hand Sarah
Because we both know
I have never let you down
And we both know
That together
We can be stronger
Than ever before.

I am not alone in my mind
The
Echoing corridors
Home to the unknown
Turning corners
Wondering
When I will run into something
Someone?
Or Some creature.

A leech
Taking advantage
Of my fragile thoughts
Feeding off of my insecurities
So I try to have none
I
Strive towards confidence like holy water
Dousing my consciousness in hope that I might convince them to leave
Or maybe I'm just trying to convince myself
And maybe the leech is self doubt.

Crushed flowers are more beautiful
Than those that are not
They tell a story
Much like the scars we carry
Be it on our skin or in our minds
Our tales are what define us
And not our appearances
That wither just as the flowers
That are in bloom and shining so brightly
Give them a few more days
And they'll be no more
Than a fleeting memory

when i'm sitting alone at night
     in the quietness of my large and aging house
i hear so many noises i'm oblivious to
     during the daylight

the clicks of the air conditioning
     switching on and off,
the creaking of the floors and walls,
     the subtle squeaking the fan makes
in the living room

it's as if my house is sighing
     it's sighing at me
disappointed in me
     he asks why i don't notice him
during the day
     why i only notice him late at night
when i'm lonely
     and there are no other noises
to entertain my ears

i tell him that i'll try to listen more closely
     in the morning, but then i fall asleep
and i wake up and i do not remember
     what i promised my sweet house
so he continues to sigh all day long
     hoping that at some point
even if it's late at night when i'm lonely
     and there is no other noises
to entertain my ears
     i will notice him again

if only for a little while

I am in his bed
We are laughing while carelessly exploring the roadmaps of each other’s bodies
His hands run their coarseness over the soft of my skin
I smile, he smiles,
Lifts his head, locks his eyes into mine and says,
"You are the perfect amount of thick."
I feel my stomach fold itself paper airplane and my head starts to spin with the sudden weightlessness
He does not know the impact of his language painted compliment
Before I can even comprehend his words I draw a grin onto my face so falsely wide that I imagine myself becoming caricature, toss my hair calmly over my left shoulder and without a second of defense,
I say thank you.
I say it
Like the categorization of my figure isn't a box I have been trying to fit into my whole life, I say thank you like I've never had to squeeze myself into almost
I give gratitude like I am truly appreciative for the approval his lips have given me, as if our intimacy wasn't enough confirmation already
I say thank you, grateful that I am not too much but terrified that I could easily become just that
I have origami twisted my bones too many times to feel anything but bent in the all of the parts of me I still cannot find comfort in
I often abandon taking care of myself like it is something I need a reminder to do
I have my body is home tattooed on my wrist when most days it feels more like a rental
I let him pretend to love me the way I do with myself always
I let him call me perfect like it's a word that has never made me a sacrifice
I let him call me thick like I am the meat on his dinner plate, cut exactly for his taste
I can't help but wonder if one extra layer of fat would cease his appetite for me

He says these words without knowing how many times I have had to cut myself into pieces to fit into hungry mouths
He means his to be flattering and sweet
He intends nothing more than to worship my body in the best way he knows how to
But there cannot be religion for those who do not understand that this temple is leftover from a war
A fight of not enough, of an excess, of too much, of just right, of not even close
I have never been good at finding balance
This body is a safe haven for lost souls
It impossible to not expand when so many stories live inside of it
I want to tell him that the density in my limbs and the mountain range that covers the surface is the only form of protection I have
This shape is not a choice, it is survival
I cannot predict when or how I will grow if I do and if I do,
I cannot expect love to give me any less than what it does now
Even if there is none in the equation
I stopped counting and adding and multiplying a lot time ago, my weight is a formula I don't allow myself to know the answer to
And far as I'm concerned, I don't need it
For each human I bare my nakedness to, I hold my breath in hopes that there will be no earthquake in my vulnerability, no shatter of the ground below us as a result of being bare
I am afraid of cracking the ground of tomorrow with who I am today
So do not tell me infallible
Do not feed me adjectives served on a gold platter
I will not take what it is I do not create
Even if interest is shown in each curve I have,
There are better ways of expression
And this thick,
Is only mine to say it is.