You move through me like I’m an item
on your to-do list,
a task to complete before the day ends.
Checked off without a second thought
Good morning - check
How are you - check

You ask how I’m doing,
but the answer doesn’t matter.
You don’t stay long enough to hear it
Effort spent only to meet the bare requirements of connection
Just words swept away by the next thing on your list

When did love become so routine
When did you stop wanting to know the little things
Now it’s just a checklist
Questions without care
Answers given without thought
I want more but all I get is the sound of silence
Dressed up as words

I don’t need grand gestures
Just questions you actually want to hear the answer to,
A moment that doesn’t feel like you’re racing for it to be over

But here we are
Me wanting more
You ticking boxes
Good morning - check
How are you - check
I’m fine I guess.
Are we over?

I got out of bed today
I didn’t really want to
I barely had the strength to
But I did it.
That counts, right?

I brewed coffee instead of pouring whiskey
felt the steam on my face
instead of the burn down my throat.
A kindness I didn’t think I deserved
But I took it anyway

How do I love myself?
Maybe it’s in these moments
in the choice to try
Where I choose gentleness over destruction
Not in grand gestures
or loud declarations—
just quiet survival.

I didn’t conquer the world today,
but I stayed
And that matters
I chose me,
in the simplest, smallest way.
I chose me,
in the way I know how:
a cup of coffee,
a moment to breathe,
a refusal to give in.
And maybe that’s where it starts—
loving myself in the in-betweens,
in the morning coffees,
and in the simple fact
that I’m still here.

Today, I got out of bed.
I made coffee.
I chose gentleness,
even when destruction called my name.
And maybe that’s all the love I need right now.
Tomorrow?
I’ll try again

There’s a scar on my left hand,
A pale, thin line,
From a morning when I stood in your kitchen,
The sun spilling through the blinds.
You were still asleep,
And I was making breakfast,
Half asleep,
Half hoping I’d be part of your mornings forever.

It didn’t hurt much then,
The can’s sharp edge meeting my soft skin.
The sting disappeared as the day unfolded around you.
But time has passed,
And the scar has stayed,
Etched into my skin like a quiet reminder.
I wonder if I’ll carry it forever.

And I often wonder,
If our love unravels
And the scar still remains,
If years from now
I’m standing across from someone else,
His eyes full of love and promises he intends to keep,
His hands steady as he slips a ring onto mine.

I wonder if I’ll catch a glimpse of that scar,
If I’ll be back in your kitchen,
If I’ll hear your voice,
And see your sleepy smile.

Will I hesitate,
Wishing it was your hands holding mine,
Your promise,
Your forever instead of his?

I’m terrified of carrying you like this,
A piece of you carved into me,
A memory that won’t fade.

I was fifteen when I met you
a girl made of sunburnt dreams
and poems scribbled on loose paper
barefoot on the shore
too young to know that some storms
don’t come with warnings

you felt like a summer breeze
golden and carefree
a kiss of warmth on my sunburnt cheeks
something I could forget when the seasons changed and the days grew cold

but you?
you were never a breeze
you were the storm on the horizon
and I only saw the grey clouds when it was too late
I didn’t know how to brace for you
so I didn’t

you tore through me
unrelenting and wild
a tide pulling me under

Summers end
and storms pass
but it wasn’t just the season that changed
the sky cleared but the wreckage of what could have been remained

how does one forget the the storm that changed the shape of them?

now here we are
years later like time hasn’t passed
like the wind hadn’t carried us in opposite directions

You say my name and suddenly
I am fifteen again
barefoot on the shore
waiting for the storm
ready to drown

I thought I was stronger
I thought I rebuilt the walls you stripped to the bone
I though I could withstand the wind
but you tear through me like you always have

loving you is standing in the eye of a storm
how can love be both refuge and ruin?
safe for a moment
but I know the winds will take me away again

you were a hurricane then
and a hurricane now
and me?
I’m just a girl who who never learned to stop running into storms