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JR Falk Jun 2015
I feel as though
I've changed a lot as a person
since you left.
But the one thing I can't shake,
is how empty
I still feel
without you.
9:28am.
JR Falk Jun 2015
Why does my mind do this?
My heart still feels funny,
It was thudding so fast.
I thought I was getting over you.
But when I heard my front door open,
the excitement of seeing you came,
even though you didn't come with.
The more that I think about you,
the more you just seem like a really good dream I had;
I've accepted that you're no more than a memory.
I know it'll never be real.
I know that all there is left to do is remember.
I know that I'll have so many more dreams,
but that will never stop you
from being the best I ever had.
x 6/1/2015
JR Falk Jun 2015
I didn't think about you very much at all today.
But I just heard the door open,
and for a solid five seconds,
I legitimately thought you came back.
Mind, *** stop it
JR Falk May 2015
An Open Letter To The First Boy I Loved

Alternatively known as “An Open Letter To The Boy That Calls Me Crazy.”

The first words you ever “said” to me were in a facebook message,
A picture of your lined arms attached, reading,
“Hah, I’m sorry, but I saw your picture of your scars and felt like showing you these.”

The first thing I should have done was run.
Not only were you immediately trying to make me feel bad
Before I had even uttered a word,
But you were already one-upping me,
Making me feel like you had been through so much more.

I admit my mistake of having shown my weaknesses online
At such a young age,
Hardly 14,
But having grown to a world of romanticized trauma,
I felt it was only normal to have issues of my own,
Whether they were exaggerated or not.

The saddest part of these issues having been forced upon myself
Is the fact that at one point I did not need them,
But now I feel like I would be nothing without them.
I do not blame you for their worsened behavior,
But before I met you,

I had never felt like a ****.
I had never actually made myself bleed to the point of soiling a shirt.
I had never actually attempted to take my life.

Though knowing I had these scars,
It seemed you knew how easily I’d fall into you,
Fall for you,
Looking for comfort in knowing I was not alone.

You persuaded me into kissing you.
You persuaded me into losing my virginity in the back of your mom’s car
While she was in your house on a cold September night.
It was rushed.
It was rough.
There was blood.
And you did not care.
“It’ll be quick, don’t worry.”

In the six months we were together,
I willingly had *** with you twice.
Every other time ****** acts occurred,
(which was over forty times)
You guilted me.
You told me that you deserved it.
You asked if I really loved you.
You told me I needed to show you that I loved you,
You told me that it was what love really was.

I never told you how many times I cried after you left.
I never told you how many guys I kissed after you,
And how every single one made me cry
Without saying a word.
It was the simple intimate touch--
Lips, even if gentle, pressing together--
That sent fear rolling through my body.

It was three months after you broke up with me.
Three months after you admitted that you cheated on me,
It was the day you asked me to go on a walk with you.
The day we could become friends again,
Start over,
Ignore that I still loved you,
Try again.
You insisted you still loved me
(Though now I doubt you ever did).
You insisted that you
Never wanted to hurt me,
And bent me over a tree in the woods
Behind the high school,
And said it would
“Just be in and out! Once!”
And I begged you to stop.
You slapped me,
You called me a ****,
And when you finally finished,
You started to panic.
You were begging me to say that
You
Didn’t
****
Me.
Through my own tears,
My own confusion,
My own pain,
I assured you,
“No, you're okay. It'll all be okay.”

It has been over two years since that day.
Since then, I have opened myself up to one person.

That man has since left me.
One of the contributing factors
Being that he was worried I was not over you.
He kept receiving messages from you,
Messages you sent claiming I would never stop loving you,
When this is the closest thing to hatred that I have ever felt,
Messages you sent claiming I would always think of you,
And what’s terrifying is I can’t help thinking of you--

It's only because I can’t get the nightmare
Of your touch
Out of my aching skull
And I don’t want you to feel victorious,
And it terrifies me that you do,
Because not only did you push me,
Not only did you threaten me,
Intimidate me,
**** me,
But you insisted I’d spend the rest of my life with you,
You disoriented my visions of love
Like a bad LSD trip,
And I’m so ******* scared it will never ******* end,
Because every time I see myself trying to hug,
Kiss,
Love,
Trust someone,
I see what you did to me and I know that it’s
Baggage to them,
But a ball and chain on me,
And I’m petrified.
These memories are bars keeping me from moving onto happier things,
Keeping me holed up, waiting for you to finally let me go,

Stop telling people that I’m crazy,
Stop whispering my name when you pass me in the hall,
Stop following my social media,
Stop following the people that I try to let in,
Stop ******* with my life,
Stop ******* with my head,
Stop ******* with me,
Leave me the **** alone,

The first words you ever “said” to me were in a facebook message,
With a picture of your lined arms attached, reading,
“Hah, I’m sorry, but I saw your picture of your scars and felt like showing you these.”

I never thought I’d have more scars than that.
Over 146 scars,
The police department proved it when they showed up at your house
The night you tried to **** yourself,
And told me it was my fault.

The scars I have aren’t physical.
Not all of them, at least.
But the problem with scars is they don’t just go away.
They go away with time,
And it’s hard to let them heal when you’re still leaving them there today.

I’ve tried telling the police what you’ve done.
I’ve tried telling counselors,
They haven’t done anything;
There was never enough proof,
It happened too long ago.
I can’t do anything to prove it.
Instead I’m left to see you daily.
Instead I’m left to hear you whisper about me.
Have people ask me questions about the things they’re hearing
Things you say.

This is an open letter to the first boy I loved.

I say boy, because
The only thing I’m certain of anymore,
Is you will never
Be a
Man.
I'm bawling right now.
I've needed to get this all out for two years.
I'm almost 18 now. Just clarifying.
5/30-31/2015
JR Falk May 2015
I found a caterpillar in the road when I took a walk today.
I picked it up, took a picture of it on my finger,
and sent it to a friend.
They responded
Aw, it's so small!
I told him I put it on a leaf and walked away.
But won't you miss it?
He joked, to which I replied,
He has a home.
Everyone deserves a chance to go home.

Why do you make sense?
He asked with a chuckle.
I apologized.
Well, now it's gone forever.
I stared at some leaves
and sat on the sidewalk.
No. It's just going home.
My friend grimaced,
noting that I was no longer joking.
Might it be home forever?
If it is, it's lucky.
Is it?
Well, at least it has a home to go to.
I said this quietly,
forgetting to filter my thoughts.
But you found it on the streets.
I sighed through my nose.
It may have been on the streets,
but as long as it's looking,
it'll find a home.

I miss its cute little face.
I laughed.
Why don't you go find it again?
With a bite of my lip,
I responded,
**Because I need to find my home.
And it's been taking me a lot longer
than it's taking the caterpillar.
5/28/2015
Honest conversation I had today.
JR Falk May 2015
I think I'm the person I swore I'd never be.
I always feared cigarettes,
and was terrified of monsters in my closet.
I never had many friends and
hated myself with a passion
I couldn't put into words.
So I put it into broken tree branches,
****** poems
and little razor cuts.
But my, do people change.

Over the last six months,
the only monsters I've feared were
the ones in my head.
I haven't touched a razor in a year or so,
and trees are so highly valued to me.
I still write ****** poems,
and cigarettes still scare me,
but I've found the exhilaration
of the nicotine/tobacco mix
is just what I've needed
to get by.

I'm not the same person I was
when I last fell in love.
I was sure that I was problematic,
sure that nobody truly wanted me around.
I know I've got friends.
I know we've all got lives of our own.
I was sure that I would end up alone.
I'm not sure if that'll ever change.
I know I'm not ugly by any means.
Except, maybe, my insecurities,
which have taken the place of aforementioned
monsters in the closet.

The monsters are much bigger now,
yet so much harder to see.
They hide between the cracks of things,
appearing instead of safety.
The monsters are my doubts.
The monsters are my shaky hands,
my calorie-counting habits,
and seeing the person I cannot seem to escape.
I never thought he'd be a face
I was so afraid to see,
but when his face comes to mind,
I'm frantic to make it go away.
Not because he hurt me,
but because of the change.
I've always had a fear of change.
I hear the words
France
Cooking
Drums
Stars
Walmart.
It's hard to forget the person
your mom was certain you'd move in with.
It's hard to forget the person
you swore you'd never be.

But here I am,
perhaps, one in the same.
For the person I swore I would never
conform to being
is the person I see in the mirror.
I've always been afraid of change,
but I've changed so much in the last month,
I don't see the same person.

I know I'm stronger,
but I'm not much braver.
I keep more to myself
yet somehow
press to be with others.
I don't need approval
of those that I surround myself with,
I just want approval from myself.

I fear I'll never get it.
I'm so afraid of change.
i dont ******* know anymore
5/27/2015
JR Falk May 2015
I just want to tell you I'm sorry.
I want to tell you all of the things I know I did wrong.
I want you to know I never meant to hurt you.
I never wanted to be that person.
I'm moving on, I'm growing up.
And it's without you,
whether I like it or not.
05/24/2015
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