This journey
has awakened
something deep
inside me
for the first time
in my life
my heart is full
thawed
from the cold
with love
for myself
and the scars
that mark
my soul
will not
go untold
but instead of
ripping me apart
they’ll be let go
reclaiming my divinity
my tarnished spirit
is forever whole.

when a boy shows you his hands
bare except for the dust
he’s begging you to look past
take them in yours.
squeeze them once.
twice.
say without speaking
that you understand that the valleys
in his palms were meant to cradle
shooting star wishes
that he’s allowed to still hope for.
when a boy shows you his eyes
of milk and crimson and melanin
a bloodshot vein for every night he can’t sleep
let him shut his eyelids.
say without speaking
that you understand that the black hole pinpricks
of his irises hold more than the universe
should allow.
when a boy shows you his soul
shivering but still working toward friction
iced over but still working toward melting
let him come to rest next to yours.
say without speaking
that you understand that he is lonely
and that his silence speaks volumes
and that you kept his treasure close
because you love him.
when a boy shows you his hands
show him your hands.
when a boy shows you his eyes
show him your eyes.
when a boy shows you his soul
show him that
this is a comfortable place to rest it.
when a boy shows you the hardness that shaped him
show him the softness
that you have in store.

i wear your sweaters when you're asleep & i wear them when your not home to remind me of who i am;
your girlfriend, your fantasy, the love of your life;
but suddenly my mind wonders who am i without you?
i've lost myself inside of you, i've buried myself deep beneath your ribcages & made home inside your chest;
but then i remember i never existed to begin with because i've always been a shapeshifter.
twisting & morphing into what everyone else wants me to be, forgetting that i have a body, a mind & a soul all of my own;
feeling guilty for taking a second to breathe through the bars on this jail cell window.
i've been laying on the floor like a carpet,
letting everyone walk on me & pretending that it's completely acceptable;
& i've always hosted the parties to give myself a sense of control when in reality all i'm doing is serving people.
but please, my love, don't misunderstand me;
my love for you is always here inside of me even if it's gone into hiding;
this illness clouding my brain has been growing from a pinprick into a wrecking ball;
turning everything into black & white as if i'm living on a zebras skin.
you always loved the yin & yang symbol, well that's how my mind self-destructs;
for anyone who doesn't know, the yin & yang symbolizes the good & the bad, with a little good in the bad & a little bad in the good;
a small light in the dark & a hint of shadow in the light;
except the way my mind works, there is no flicker of a flame in the darkness & darkness does not exist in the light;
at least that's how my mind perceives things...
when i'm treated with love & adoration, my heart suddenly beats & you are an angelic being i am undeserving of;
but then again i never deserved any form of happiness, according to my thoughts;
when i am treated with abuse & neglect (or what my brain tells me is abuse & neglect), i shut down my emotions & once again become a ghost to my own body;
but then again this hollow numbness is the home i grew up in...
i don't remember much of my childhood & sometimes i wonder if that's a good thing;
was it to protect myself from the horrors that i'm not sure even existed,
or was it really a wonderful childhood that i purposefully forgot so i could give all the blame to my family?
i don't remember much of my childhood but i know i forgot it to relieve myself of some of this pressure;
some of this pressure that pushes down on me every minute of every day;
how do you expect me to feel when every feeling i ever expressed was shoved back down my throat because it was too inconvenient for someone else;
how do you expect me to speak when i was trained to bite my tongue because i was always too intelligent for anyone else's comfort;
how do you expect me to live when all i've lived for was to satisfy the needs of those around me so i could feel worthy of the air in my lungs;
& when i say "you", i don't mean you, just you as one sole being, i mean everyone;
everyone i've ever met has expected something of me;
whether it be my body, my mind, my skills or my words,
my heart, my thoughts, my possessions or me;
& you my love, you are everything to me despite my contradictive actions,
because you're the only one who has ever taken a moment to look at me dead in the eyes & ask me with pure love & selflessness
well what do*  you  want...?
*...i wear your sweaters when you're asleep & i wear them when you're not home to remind me that you love me as much as i love you.
& you may be the only person that could truly know who i am.

Borderline Personality Disorder.

1. The other day I woke up and thought I knew who I was
I fell asleep and somewhere in between I lost myself
I lost the feeling in my stomach too
but we're still talking about how much we have in common.

2. My sweater got stuck on the hanger this morning
I started to rip it down
eventually I broke plastic and skin.
I haven't been back in my room since.

3. 12:06 PM Today my best friend came home and took most of our makeup
12:07 PM I messaged her and mocked our friendship.
12:07 PM She was in trouble with her grandma and had to hurry. She didn't know.
12:08 PM I broke down crying.

4. I woke up at 7:32 AM and took 4 shots
drank 2 beers
smoked four bowls
drank half a bottle of NyQuil and woke up the next day.
I have yet to figure out why.

5. I wanted to be a horse trainer for 9 years
then I decided I wanted to be an artist
worked on becoming a tattoo artist
matured into a writer
fell in love with photography
now I'm not even sure if I like school.

6. First scars appeared at 9
worst scars at 15.
First attempt at 10
almost wasn't an attempt at 14.

7. I've been happy the past few days
but I still want to **** myself
because soon I'll be drowning in depression
and succumbing to anxiety.

9. Once I got so bored
I thought myself into sorrow.
I didn't come out for a few hours
but by dinner I was laughing.

10. I used to be in love with a boy
but I didn't know
so I used whatever I could get
and now I'm alone.
I don't blame him.

11. I've mentally lost myself
as I screamed into the mirror
and it wasn't me talking to myself.
I don't really remember being there
but I was.

Man, whoever said 'long distance is hard'
Has to be on the royal court of understatements.
It's not hard, it's sitting on the ledge of possible,
Looking out onto the abyss of impossibility.
It's being the one left behind,
Hoping their heart doesn't set up roots where their feet have.
It's being the one who left,
Learning to balance the old life with your new one.

Long distance is paranoia at war with trust.
It's hearing your partner's fingers tap tap tap
On the phone screen,
And wondering what messages this 'nobody' is receiving.
It's having unbalanced days stretched out over hundreds of miles
And hoping they miss you, too.

Long distance is making your dog sleep in their spot
Because that's your version of a warm body.
Long distance is sending them off with love
And hoping it's enough to bring them home safe.
Or bring them home at all.

It's as old as war, adventure, itchy feet,
And I will cling to its age like a prayer
Whispering to it at night in my dog-warmed bed
Asking for the power to not starve off of
10 minute phone calls and 'thank you's.

Because he will always be worth it

You were always better at love poems
Which is truly a tragedy
Because now who will write you the eloquence you deserve?
There is something terribly fitting, and yet sad,
That when I think of how to write for you,
"Your Song" immediately comes to mind.
However, unfortunate for you, it's also true.
If I had anything better to express these wavelengths vibrating in my chest,
I would do it, to show you the depth, volume, mass of my affection
For the way you hair only knows how to grow up,
For your hobbit-like, animated toes,
For hands so perfect, Michelangelo couldn't have done it better,
For the ever-shifting newness of your irises;
But as previously lamented,
I have nothing but words.

Even more unfortunate for you, love
I was always more of a math brain.
Ah! If only there was a formula,
One where x equals the buzzing in my knee caps when you're standing close enough to touch,
And y equals the deepest secret that cummings tried to explain,
Where there's a tree and a sky and bud.
Something I could quantify,
Like how your star sign and mine dance around the earth with one another.
How it all means nothing by itself, just some shots in the dark
But because of love, some of those shots meet their target.

One day I'll write you a love poem,
A real one.