I reflect on my recent youth,
And realize,
I chase empty husks,
Seeking a love I’ve never felt.
I suppose I have always known,
Always seen that I seek home in others.
Perhaps it was home,
Once,
Or twice,
But if it was,
It was built in lust,
And their luck.
An object in their eyes,
And they a god in mine-
Not once did I fall because it was convenient,
It was quite the contrary,
Really.
My lust is a reflex,
A cry for love,
Not this petty game,
Of white lies I am often subjected to.
Feeding into your fantasies,
To get what they seek.
I feel like a plaything,
That sweet, behaved BabyDoll.
A pawn on their tabletop
And willingly, too,
Title upon my collar.
Ashamed, I am,
Of this toy I become,
For boys who claim to be in love.

I wish I hadn't let you in.
I wish I hadn't stayed.
I wish I hadn't run away.
I wish I hadn't been afraid.
I wish I had been okay.
I wish I had thought about how they felt.
I wish I had never loved anyone.
I wish I had never chased anything.
I wish I had never lied.
I wish I had been patient.
I wish I had waited.
I wish I had thought.
I wish I could start over,
Then maybe I would be okay.

I am rather emotional, and honestly, you all probably already know that.
Each of you has probably seen me cry once,
Or so full of rage that silence was never an option.
Some would say that this makes me too much to handle,
That I need to control myself.
But how I am now, is better than how I used to be.
The screaming and the yelling and the crying and the falling apart,
It's all so much better than sitting in my room at night, unable to sleep, my mind racing, but my heart numb.
It is so much better than being unable to smile a real smile,
It is so much better than despising my life and everything within it.
I'd rather fall apart over something small than be unable to shed a tear over something big.
And maybe I look crazy,
Maybe I am out of control,
But at least I feel whole.