last night i dreamt with raw emotion. i felt everything i’ve been afraid to feel all at once; i was scared but i was courageous and i was angry but i was proud and i was so in love with you.

i hid from sight because i knew seeing me would make you angry but i still stuck my neck out because i wanted that recognition. i knew that your shouting was better than your silence, and that the force of your fingers sinking into my skin was better than the stillness of your absence.

apologies had never come easier and i’d never cried so much in my life. my heart was in my throat and refused to let oxygen through to my lungs making it impossible for me to just be still.

i knew i had what i wanted, which was the exact opposite of what i needed. i knew how things would end up but oh it just felt so good to be home again.

and i'm one line a-

way from disappearing for-

ever. but i know



i will be missed my

smile and my laugh and my

tears and the way i



multitasked and the

way the word "resilient" could

be applied to my



name. so i guess i

will take another deep breath

and begin again.

my fingertips itch

for something iknow

i'm not supposed to want

to have.



it's within my grasp,

i can feel my veins

rising to the surface of my skin

because my body wants

what my brain

won't allow it.



blood boils better under pressure

and i can't come up for air soon enough.



do as i say

not as i do.

this life is taken for granted

with harsh words and

heavy hearts of unforgiveness,

unappreciative thank yous

and too many

i love yous

left unsaid.

and we never really realize.

too many of us

never

really

realize.

i don't get angry often.

there's no point

for

it's a short fuse and

i often get caught

in my own explosion.

but sometimes

on very rare occasions

it's not an overreaction.

sometimes

justification

hurts worse

and in the long run

means more.

rumi said

“this being human is a guest house.”

and i have spent great time in mine,

in the very beginning

slipping through

the cracks in the floorboards

after the rug was pulled out from under me.

i spent a lot of time in a painful free fall

grasping at straws

and feeling like i was alice,

tumbling down a rabbit hole only i could see.

but there’s no sense

in abandoning your own guest house, i think.

my homage to rumi is

still living in mine.

the basement still counts.

there’s no such thing as belonging

and i have learned this from you.

we found out

the world is not static,

stagnant water

attracts the most unfortunate flies and

planting your roots into solid soil

isn’t always best.

there’s no such thing as belonging

and if this still rings true

i’m really curious to know why

you think i belong to you.