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Daphne Mar 2018
i understand it now
when they say falling in love.
for me, it was more of a
plunge from a building
onto the bustling street.

it was not intentional,
i did not have plans to love you.
but that's the funny thing.
who really plans to jump
from a buidling
onto a distant street
without planning to feel pain
love can sometimes feel like the end
  Mar 2018 Daphne
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.
  Mar 2018 Daphne
Dust Bowl
I don't ******* food when I eat.

Love isn't supposed to make you want to go back to therapy.

I felt good about myself when you held my hand.

My comfort zone was so big with you, I was able to step out of it.

You think I'm stupid for not knowing how to love you.

You think I'm broken because I can't love you.

My bones are so heavy they can't get away,

My heart is so empty it wants to scream.

I don't think this is what love is,

just because you do.
I still don't think I have ever been in love.
Daphne Nov 2017
please, you have to understand,
this isn't me.
i am not my mood swings,
i am not my fear of talking on phones.

please, you have to understand,
this isn't me.
i am not my depressive episodes,
i am not my medications i must take.

please, you have to understand,
this isn't me.
i am not my fear of eating,
i  am not my fear of being replaced or ignored.

understand, i am not my depression.

understand, i am not my anxiety.

understand, i am not my PMDD.

understand, i am not my BPD.

understand, i am not my eating disorder.

please, you have to understand,
this is me.
i am my love of cats,
and i am my admiration of everything musical.

please, you have to understand,
this is me.
i am a lover of stationery,
and i am a lover of every single living creature.

please, you have to understand,
this is me.
i am one who eats one too many brownies,
and i am one who cares for the entirety of the environment.

please, see past my mental disorder(s).
see the real me,
not just the chemistry in my brain.

please, see my lust for life.
see me beating stereotypes,
see me being me.
I know that this is quite the bit long, but so is my journey.
Daphne Aug 2017
you caught my eye
  you made me like you
    you made me fall in love with you
      you took my love as a simple perk of life
        you used me and beat me down
          you robbed me of love for anyone else or myself
            you killed the happy person inside of me
              you made me numb inside
                you made me feel like i deserved nothing but sadness
                  you may not love me anymore but i certainly still do
                    i still love you
                      i know it's not healthy for me to love you
                        i know i need to stop
                          i know but i can't
                            i can't
                          i can'
                        i can
                       i ca
                      i c
Daphne Feb 2017
You can ignore me,
but remember that you once loved me.
Yes, it hurts me sometimes,
but then I remember what you've done.
Taking screenshots of my loyal love,
and making fun of me for my feelings.
Thinking my heart was just a pawn,
a pawn in a board game that you'll forget about.
This bitterness against you isn't me being a crazy ex girlfriend,
it's me being human and having feelings.
I just don't understand how you could tell me that you loved me,
but leave me for the girl whom you told me you couldn't stand,
and do this all in one day.
Daphne Jun 2016
Month one gave me the butterflies
Love songs were relevant
Soft words were exchanged, not cowardly lies
I was petrified to lose you.

Month two was more comfortable.
Love songs were a hit or miss
We spoke with only loving voices
I was petrified to lose you.

Month three, I became fully comfortable, you became distracted
Love songs were my favorite, but they were your enemy
I spoke with loving voices, you didn't speak at all
I was skeptical

Month four, I was aware of everything
Love songs were just songs
We only talked over text
I knew what was going to happen

Month five, I was just arm candy so you didn't look like a loser
Love songs made me sick
I talked, you lied
I didn't face the facts

Month six, I let you go
Love songs were never sang or played
I deleted your number
I'm confused without you

Month seven, you came back with a "You Up?" text
I only played sad songs
I looked at my phone with sorrow
You broke me

Love is a slippery *****, isn't it?
Five months, that's all
You showed me love
And you showed me heartbreak
Should I thank you for that?

— The End —