I should’ve
waited
for someone
like
her to
come
into my
life.

Trigger warning: Self harm, cutting, eating disorders, suicidal thoughts


I want you to watch
Watch me
Watch as I hurt
Watch as I abuse myself
‘Cause I don’t really care anymore
I’ll open my wrists
I’ll exhaust my heart
Burn out my mind
I’ll empty my stomach
I’ll tremble with weakness

I want to stumble and fall
I want you to catch me
Prove you care
Prove you’re there
Beg me to stop
Take the temptation from my hand
Share my burdens
Because I can’t bear them anymore
Not alone

Stay my hand
Take the blade
When I’m too weak to let it go
Tend to my wounds
Take away my chemicals
The ones I use to hide
Because you want to see me
Not my masks
Because you care
You want to care for me
You know I’m no longer capable

I want to be weak
I want to be ill
Starving
Shaking
Bleeding
Dying
And I want you
To care

Tears flowing,


Breaking down.


Lips blowing,


As she frown.



“Am I worth it?”,


Questions asked.


“Yes, you are”,


A million times.



Oh, stop crying,


“Smile a lot, darling.”


I know it’s hurting,


But never stop fighting.

She real,
          she's deep, she's
  mystical, and she believes
           in kindness and
     oneness  and  romance
              and magic.

            She's  a  warrior,
                 and a lover.

               She believes in
        road trips to the moon
                     and stars
           and  dancing  with
                the universe.

            She's  fearless and
                      gentle, and
               brave. She lives in
                       oceans,
                      waterfalls,
                  sunsets,  an­d
                     galaxies.

                    She's  the
                        artist,
                     the poet,
                 the poem, and
                    the dream.

                    She's LOVE
                                                            ­               Jon York   2019

If it were real,  it'd never be over

For him, she used to be an addiction, for her, he used to be just a friendly reply.

I want to write about what hurts because I think it will
Stop me from hurting. If I put these words on
A page then they will be easier to digest.
Poetry isn't curative by creation, it is
Just confession. Still, these remedial
Lines are what I turn to when I am holding
Too much in my hands. Right now, I feel
Like I am overflowing onto the ground below me.
For the first time,
I don't want to write about what hurts. I want
To keep it inside of me and let it burn me. I want
To carry it in my palms for as long as I can.
I should write
About how we've said goodbye so
Many times that it turned into a threat, a weapon
We made with our tongues.
I should write
About how I lied and got away with it,
How you got caught with
Your hands tied and no one to blame.
I should write
About how it was over before we waved the white
Flag, and I know what it means now
To hold onto a sinking ship.
I've never had anything to die for.
I should write about how I've never wanted
Something so much that I devastated it completely.
We loved in harsh conditions, under sun and darkness and
I don't know how to write about how
The love didn't save us.
I don't write about letting go as much as I write about
Holding on, and I want
That to change.
I don't want to write hurt just to feel it.
The next poem I write about you will be
About me. About how I held on and how I let go.
It won't be about your love, it will be about
Mine. It won't stop me from hurting, but
It is how I make it out
Of my love alive.

First,
   you forgot me.
Later,
   you hurt me.
Now,
   you laugh about me.

But I forgive you.

I laugh with you
   now.
I will hurt you
   later.
I am going to forget you
   at last.