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.

Every one talks of love
Maybe its easy for every one but me.
Every one wants to be loved.
Do they ever wonder what it means.
May be there's such a thing as afraid of love.

They say you would have to be broken to think that.
They donot understand that its a beautiful feeling.
To actually think about the other person.
It takes bravity to walk up to someone.
Many love and never tell.

It takes a beautiful heart, to want to protect another.
Its what is lacking in many.
Loving shouldn't be random kisses and *** with strangers.
These acts are supposed to be in the context of love.
Yet many have let them just become a game, or dare....
When did we become so empty.

The truth is what we know.
From lines in the bible.
To what is supposed to be *** education in school.
We have heard it, yet abandoned it.
I have learned..that unfortunately,
the truth is what you know...
You just don't want it.

In this life time.
I sit at my office desk.
Its the same room, same furniture, same computer.
I look at the same art piece every day.
Same faces seated across the room. The same old routine.
I donot hate it, its just my boring "normal".

But in my mind.
Its one of those days. With just enough sun .
Seated at a window in a beautiful apartment.
I love the ice cream melting in my palm.
My love will be back in  hour.
I cannot wait to see his face.
I look across the room and see the dress I just made.
I'm happy here, I love here, Id stay here.forever....

Every morning me and him go jogging.
We then make breakfast together.
playing and laughing like children.
I look at him and I love him, deep down, I know he loves me too.
I watch him walk to his car, and I get ready to design a new dress.
I am very happy. so happy.

But in this life time, I'm just at my desk, and its just another basic day.
And when I get home tonight, it will be to a quiet, lonely house.

I used to look at you.
And feel everything in me scream.
They may say I'm empty.
I almost believe them.
but that quantity of love wouldn't pour from an empty vessel.

I don't regret you.
May be I should.
But why should I.
Because for love's sake.
You gave meaning to my heart.

I love you, do you love me ?
Yesterday like today,  you looked at me.
I thought I saw a smile
Then you looked away.
We became strangers.

You leaned against the wall when you saw me.
Smiled and told a joke.
I swear you smiled.
Maybe laughed even.
Then you walked away.
We were strangers again.

On the way home we walked together.
Smiling and shopping together.
I've never had so much to say in such a little time.
We looked really happy.
Then you were gone.
Now we are still strangers.