dear matthew,

you taught me to love
in the fading twilight of winter
when my heart was breaking beneath
the weight of my own twisted lies
and the ugly truth behind my own
pretty face
i loved you but i hated myself
and in my incessant self-loathing
i lusted for the minute hand of a clock
more than i lusted for you

my cheek shone like shards of glass
in heavy summer air
scintillating blades that had borne the
blow of god’s fingers
one time too many
i was angry at the world
and you
were a part of this world that i despised
so much

you stayed
on the nights when i retreated
to that dark corner within myself
when i sobbed that
i was taking up too much space
and cursed a god i used to believe in
when i recoiled at your kind words
because you lied like
the scale never would
and i learned that trust could only be found
in numbers

so i hated you for loving my body
with bone white skin stretched thin
over angular bones and
cavernous cheeks and
sunken eyes too wild to be healthy
i hated you for loving my body
even as it softened
when i longed for the sharp edges
i could no longer find
and you kissed me as if to say
arcs are even more beautiful

i cried at night because i could not
make you happy
your fingertips on my skin
were ten reminders of how much i’d grown
and though i tried
i could not shake the suffocating
grip of inadequacy that clenched the softness
of my waist
when you told me to get out of my box
i tried to
but the truth was that i could never love myself
for the sake of someone else

love
what is it, anyway?
the first time i called it love
i was not sure if i meant it
but when i lost myself in
the inexplicable colors of nighttime
kissed the sharpness of your jaw
and held your heartbeat in my palms
god knows i was telling the truth

matthew, i am not sorry for my own pain
because hurt is the humanity
in human experience
but i am sorry for yours
because i could not see it
when it was there
i am not sorry for that wednesday in march
when i threw your clothes in a grocery bag and
tried to forget
but i am sorry for every moment
before then

for being a coward
for my blinding perfectionism
for not kissing you in the street
when i knew that i wanted to
for making a big deal out of
the little things
and ignoring
the big things
i am sorry that i didn’t stand up for myself
i am sorry that i didn’t stand up for you
but most of all,
i am sorry that you had to know me
when you did
when i could not give you all of my love
because i was only just learning how
to give it to myself

-- amanda