sometimes i dream
of stained glass windows and the setting sun, gleaming.
of coffee and shared silence in a kitchen, messy.
of fingers laced and rain pouring steadily, sweetly.
of ***** clothes and dust, books that barely fit on the shelf.

sometimes i imagine
the water running.
your face in the mirror.
steam clouding over.

sometimes i wish
for night to be less lonely,
for morning to be lively,
for the day to feel too short,

sometimes.

shame used to bleed out of me
vulnerability an open wound
i desperately tried to hide

until i found i could stand it no longer
and buried the emotion behind smiles and laughter
acting as though i hide nothing in my heart

sometimes
the point

isn’t that i will be okay.

sometimes
the point

is that right now


im not.

i think i’ve realized i don’t like living alone.

maybe what i was seeking was just a sense of peace. the quiet that comes with it is oppressive most days.

i think what i really want is the feeling of being near someone without it feeling like a battle,
without having to claw my way through anxiety.

where the self doesn’t seek to move it just stays content in the space with another person

to feel complete in my own skin
bare, unafraid.

i am starting to think it won’t ever go away
the foundation has been laid too strong
sunken deep, bricks piled upon years

the feeling of my skin is distant from inside
untethered to my being
returns each night to lay itself across my body, smothering

i wrap myself in it like a cloak
close my eyes, breathe in the familiar weight

I don’t want to just be a respite for other people’s emotions
To only feel worthy when in service
But I don’t know where or how to draw the boundary
Struggling with each stab of guilt
When I ignore my instincts towards another’s pain
Empathy is a skill I built out of necessity to survival
I perhaps think I should not have made it so sharp

The anger must first be acknowledged before it will subside.