Before.

If I had a choice.
I'd pick a book without a voice.
A book of comfort,
who,
lay open bare.
Wet pages,
I'd skim,
decipher and fill in
Its own blank pages.
All the while,
ripping out my own spine,
to seal a crooked title
on an unpainted canvas.

And now.

If I had a choice
I'd pick a book that had a voice
that kept me reading,
even after the first chapter.
No more *******,
happily ever afters.
There would be sequels,
and short conclusions.
To a tale that is never-ending,
Because
they were brave enough,
to fill their pages.

And I'm wise enough,
to read,
and write,
my own.

Is it so hard
to seek,
forever embraces?

Is it so easy
to greet,
substantial hellos?

Is it so sudden
to meet
today's promises?

Is there too long
to speak,
one's silent woes?

No matter how hard I try
I just-
want
to be closer to you.

If I had to,
I'd rather be.
Discarded once
then reused,
over
       and
              over
again.

Did u love me more then?
Do u love me more now?
Or do you love,
The idea
Of who I could be.

I prepared myself for this,
I was made for this,
I say.
Taking a step forward,
With my ponytail all the way.
Maybe if I stood straight,
they won't notice,
my body shake
amidst the apposer,
who saw me and called me over.
Reviewing my file,
she smelled of pity
and smiled judgment.
a juxtaposed understanding,
of my mocking opposition.

she
held a flower,
crushed it
and offered it to me.

Each petal being a dying answer.

This understanding chaos
that threatened to devour.

Did she know.
How it felt,
to walk back, empty.

To walk through corridors,
feeling shut from opportunity.

To hear each step stutter in regret.

And walk past your hopes,
heart heavy.

I don't need your pity,
I don't need your understanding.

I just want to know,
that things will be okay.

Even if I can't feel at all.
I'll
      move
                  forward.

Still waiting for your answer.

But honestly,
Fck that hallway.

I've seen you build bridges
between
discomfort and discipline.
I've watched you cross chasms
of
reality and resilience
I've heard the battle cries,
as
you lay there victorious.
You continue to crush your enemies.
But somehow,
leave your beliefs in the ring.
You're a winner in paper and appearance
but you've lost in spirit.
And that's the battle that counts.
Because I know you.

And you never lose.