Holding people back is worse than being worthless, it’s costly.
They pay and pay and pay but why?
Why go into debt for me?
I can’t give you anything but these broken parts.
They aren’t beautifully tragic, they aren’t something that can be turned around.
They are just pathetic and sad and I’m a weight on your ankle.
How does it feel carrying 90 pounds plus the weight of the world?
Carrying the sky has crushed me and I threw that burden onto you too.
Congratulations for getting ****** in!
Was my siren melody too much for you?
I was sure they would of shoved the plugs into your ears.
My reputation precedes me.

I shared myself with you.
Whether you could hear it or not, through every chord I played I screamed and bellowed and sobbed out the story that created the mess I’ve become.
But we created something magnificent together.
My pain was the consistent and simple base.
Your intricate  melody understood and validated every drop of sorrow that hit the keys.
The last 10 years I've been a product of my symptoms.
My instrument rusted scrap metal from the unshed tears of a 5 year old child that never got to grow up.
I wasn’t her today.
In that chapel, improvising and forging music from thin air, I was radiant shining through the trauma of a girl who was too young to know her body wasn’t something to be abused.
You helped me do that.
You knew what I needed without having to communicate.
For those few minutes you knew me like no one else ever could.
Your crescendo set my life into motion, and in a major key.
No one else will ever join me for measure one of this symphony.
We started this piece with a love of music and the lord, and I couldn’t have requested anything better.

You didn’t live up to him.
Not even close.
Your hard exterior weighed me down,
Your inferiority was an inconvenience.

But you had scars and so did I.
You had a story that I’ll never know,
Of the place and people you left to be played by me.
They labeled you used but I took you anyway.

We bonded slowly but surely,
Each note in our symphony coming out less strained.
I just wanted to create.
I wanted to make something important.
He couldn’t do that for me.

But we, my darling, will accomplish the impossible, stretching to octaves unheard of.
Our hearts beating to the rhythm of our future,
Our tone touching their souls.
Take a bow, my love,for your scratches and cracks don’t matter here.

Burnt sienna is the shade of exits.
When my trauma has become a load you’re no longer willing to help me bare,
No words will be necessary.
I won’t hate you, I truly understand.
It is dark, and sad and if I had the option of an out I would take it.
I won’t hold it against you.
You’re word will not be broken.
You said you’d never leave but you didn’t know what you signed up for.
Love, you are not a monster.
I am just a wreck.

I really want to believe you.
I want to believe in the fact that you are done exploiting me.
I want us to not have an expiration date.
And even though you comfort me like warm milk on a cold night,
I think it will eventually spoil.

It’s hard not to feel used.
Friends don’t treat friends like this.
I can see why people think I’m being manipulated.
I probably am being manipulated.
But I’ll savor it until you decide you’ve had enough.

Trusting you like this
Feels like sharing one breath;
The drumroll before the kiss.
Your exhale becoming my inhale.
Your forehead on mine.
Our eyelashes grazing each other.

Our proximity is electric and charged,
but innocent and patient.
Only taking what we are given,and
Worshipping every broken piece like the
Promises we made that beautiful day in November.

I know we aren’t together,
But this can’t just be friends.
My heart is a canteen,
carrying the entire ocean.
It’s salty, and the tide is always high.
The waves are where ships go to wreck.
But when you saw it in its entirety, you recognized its depth.

And you called it amazing.
You said you would cherish it always.
I want the lifeguard to reel you in and lock you out,
I do not trust my current, you will be torn out to sea.
But you said you’d always protect me.
And the absurdity of that makes me want to believe you.

Understand my body is not currency

2. Stop resenting my body for being
something men can't help but want

3. Don't try and make myself undesirable

4. Don't turn people into medicine

5. Don't make a wound to distract from the
old one. They do not bleed the same.
Those scars are not noble.