He used to care for my wounds like each one was too fragile to touch.
Now he just looks at each scar in disgust.
His eyes once soft for my pain, have come to grow cold.
It’s as if to him, my suffering has grown old.
He used to lay with me each morning and trace his fingers on my skin.
Now patience has become sin.
He would always use his words to ease my darkened thoughts.
But now when I’m lost, he just shuts himself off.
My anxiety and depression used to be met with understanding and love.
But after 8 years, I guess he’s done all that he could of...
The day he asked for my hand was one of the happiest days of my life.
Now each day is met with strife.
Each thing I use to say to him would be listened to with care.
Now it’s like I’m not even there.
We used to communicate without a problem or fight.
But now every word is said with a bite.
Each cut that I made on my skin would lead to an empathetic kiss.
Now each one adds distance.
His heart was so pure but now it’s so hard to access.
Where did my love go that I used to know best?
And will it be like this for the rest?

When I think of you
                                                             ­                    I think of teacups;
for when my mind is blank                
                              
                                 ­  the thoughts of you manage to

                                               l
                                                      e
       ­                                                       a
        ­                                                              k

­                                                                 ­             inside my head.

..neither
good enough a mason or carpenter
to burn bridges
so quickly
and still have anywhere to go.

pure of heart - that's what they tell me
"you're too pure of heart"
"you'll get hurt too easy"

should i put up some walls?
would that protect me?
or should i continue on

caring -
about people who don't care for themselves
about people who don't care for me

loving -
people who don't love themselves
people who don't love me

i could put up some walls
i could adopt apathy

but then

i would just be

someone who doesn't love for others
someone who doesn't care for me

Sometimes I just wish I would walk outside,
it would be dark but the moon could light up the night,
And his shadow would be so tall it was touching my feet.

Our eyes could lock and it would be wordless,
We would meet in the middle, his fingers running through my hair,
And we would go back through the door together two souls, one being.

Instead I feel sick as I watch him watching her,
Smiling, she slowly blinks her brown eyes at him,
And he hooks his calm hand around her slim waist.

Her breath catches when he pulls her towards him,
Two bodies becoming one as they embrace, he lifts her chin,
And I realise I’ve opened the wrong door, looked for the wrong soul.

Wild wasn't quite the right word,
I don't think there really is one
But here she is, dragging me three steps behind her

My heart tried to tug itself out of my body half the time
But my ribcage held fast
Seriously, this was the worst time and place to be kissing a girl
There were police on either side, and her sign in between us
But our picture made the front page

I didn't know that girls could look this good in dresses
But there she was, long leg peeking through a slit
Long hair gently gracing her shoulder blades with its presence
I was suddenly part of her body
I was in the ballroom, I had her spinning around to the entire orchestra,
Just her and I,
And all I had done was touched her hand

Her toes melted seamlessly into the grass
You couldn't tell where the earth ended and she began
I saw all four seasons on her lips
Like she was falling backwards into a pile of leaves in her best floral dress and sunglasses and scarf
I held the side of her face, gently as if she would crumble at my touch but fly away at her release
All I could see in her eyes was freedom

She was humming in the kitchen, making some sort of fruity frozen iced tea
And I remembered every second I had ever spent with her, all at once
All of the high school dances and the years of "keeping in touch,"
(And all of the years that we didn't...)
I had never felt so genuine as standing there, basking in everything I could have ever wanted
Taking her in as if she might melt and water the flowers with her sincerity
This
Is why we invented kissing

Why do I come here,
Day
After
Day
Soak my worries into these healing poems
Dive into someone else's heartbreak
Cry with them
Swim though a tangle of truth written by a nobody
You aren't a nobody anymore
This is a haven, a sanctuary of hope
For all these wandering poets
Wandering through heartbreak
Lies, truth
Death, life
Hurt, healed
So, ask me, why am I here?
Aren't you here for the same reason?