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 Mar 2018 Dakota J Dawson
my given name slipped out of his mouth for the last time
how sour it tasted
and man
did i want to spit it back at you
why did one breakup feel like two
 Mar 2018 Dakota J Dawson
 Mar 2018 Dakota J Dawson
God. How am I still not okay?

God. It's been so long.

God. I'm so tired of life right now.

God. What happened to me?

I was such a nice kid.
I was calm all the time.
Mature for my age,
Little but so lively.

I was so helpful.
So loyal.
I always supported my trust.
But I never really spoke my mind.

I was shy.
I was small.
I never stood up for my feelings
I never stood up for myself.

And now I'm older.
I realize I don't need support.
I need myself.
I need confidence.

Speaking your mind is not wrong.
Standing up for your feelings isn't rude.
Standing up for yourself isn't mean.
Saying what you feel doesn't make you imperfect.

No one's perfect. Not even them.
The ones you hate for being so amazing.
Maybe she has anxiety.
Maybe his mom is alcoholic.

No one has a perfect life.
There's not one perfect family in the world.
There is not a person in the world who's perfect.
There's not a person who doesn't have one bit of strife.

But just because you aren't perfect.
Doesn't make you less worth it.
You're amazing.
You're still charming, kind, and strong.

You're just more experienced.
You just understand some more things now.

And maybe, just maybe,
You just aren't as shy anymore.
I'm not perfect. But I'm not shy anymore either.
 Jan 2018 Dakota J Dawson
look at these girls
sweet girls
pretty girls
skinny girls
sweet pretty skinny girls
pale as ghosts
on all the posts
programmed to make you love the most
lips with a taste
perfect cherries
and bony hands
bony wrists
bony thighs
little do you know
they are beginning to crumble
and fade into the wall
joining the skeletons in their closet
digging their graves with
manicured nailsm
living up to their skin tone
 Jan 2018 Dakota J Dawson
 Jan 2018 Dakota J Dawson
2017 was an alcohol,
that cuts through your throat,
alone or with friends.
But you still drink it, anyway.

2017 was writing my first poem
published for the world
when I thought I’ll stay silent,
words were there. Still.

2017 was the first tattoo
on my body. I loved my skin enough
that I inked & hurt it.
The irony.

2017 was ocean, sandy toes,
and tan lines.
It was the strong waves
and also the calm.

2017 was loving everyone
I love, unconditionally.
Even if I was hurt.
Even without replies.

2017 was going to the gym,
with the mindset of vanity.
Of looking good,
but not feeling good.

2017 was body image issues,
from skinny to thicc thighs,
starvation and stress eat.
It was never contentment.

2017 was cutting my hair short
when I wanted it to be long.
And I regretted it
right after.

2017 was everything except self love.
It was pain, hatred, pride & anxiety
waking me up in the middle of the night
and keeps me up all night.

I wanted to write something
without biterness & hate
but I’m sorry it turned out like this.
2017 was being sorry most of the time.

Sorry for being this way,
and being alive but ungrateful.
Sorry for sticking to my last hope,
that’s all I’ve got.
and I’m sorry, but I’m still fighting.

— The End —