I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because the last time I opened up to someone artistically they told me it was pretty dark and I should keep it to myself.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because I was raised in a culture that was anti love and pro meaningless ***. I saw endless commercials about movies that glamorize a lifestyle in which your body is fulfilled but your heart is ignored and at that impressionable age I learned my heart came second but my allure came first and the less I cared that happier I would be and I carried that belief around with me the way I used to carry around a Bible as a child.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because of the time that I opened my father’s phone to reveal a family secret I would hold to this day against my own moral instincts unraveling miles of insecurities wondering if I’m not a good enough daughter or if he stopped loving my mother or if true love was never real and although I had been taught marriage was my purpose, it was what I believed would make me happy, maybe rings aren’t enough to stay in love and maybe people’s feelings change and maybe no one actually has a “one true love” and that this purpose I had been taught was really an endless wild goose chase that only lead to broken families and lost souls.

I can’t write this poem
I can’t write this poem because sometimes I still wonder why I fell into an abyss of toxicity at such a young age. And when I say wonder I don’t mean a trivial ponder, I mean I contemplate every possible reason why the person who I once believed held the universe in her eyes would lie to my face, why she never kissed me in public and our love was always a secret, why she valued girls with blue hair but my blonde hair was not good enough, why I had to hide bruises from my family when I was still in high school or more importantly, why at the time, I thought I deserved them. These thoughts, this lingering paranoia that I am undeserving of healthy love, they muddy my interpretations of real life and distort reality and effect my relationships. My doctor would call these intrusive thoughts, my best friend would tell me they’re symptoms of PTSD, but I have come to realize that I’ve been burned and I am damaged and I hope to god I can recover.

But you,
Oh god, you
You can write this poem. You can be my safety net while I’m free falling in love. You can be the one to listen to my mental tilt-a-whirls, you can be the one that introduces my body and my heart, you can be the one that calms the storms in my mind when I’m questioning the love I’m deserving of. You are the one who makes sure I fall asleep in my bed after drunk nights, you are the one that still sees my value after acknowledging my flaws.
You can write this poem.

You said that you'd be there,
to catch me when I fall;
all I felt was empty air,
you weren't there at all.

You said you'd lift me up,
whenever I was down;
your leaving was abrupt,
you didn't stick around.

You said you'd be my honey,
through the laughter and the sadness;
but what's happened isn't funny,
now I know this thing called madness.

You said "I'll always love you,"
it was just the other day;
but hell is what you put me through,
and I never had my say.

You said I was your loving lad,
and you were my bonny bride;
but love is not the thing you had,
only arrogance and pride.

You said you'd love me till the end,
but the end, it never came;
you disappeared, around the bend,
as I called, in vain, your name.

Im sorry. I can't lie to you anymore

He said, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Im only 18.
Sometimes I think about how many years I have ahead

About the lovers that will come and break my heart
And the lovers who's hearts I will break

For the kids I hope to raise
And the kids of my kids that I hope to raise

For the jobs I will have
And the opportunities I will lose

For the people I will meet, and stay
And for the people who will abandon me

For the times I will sit on the peak of the world, like a king
And the times when the lights dim and I will be totally engulfed by the dark

And I realize
The vastness, and depth of the ocean in front of me

And just how lucky I am -
How delicate and fading youth is.