When you finally decided to walk away, a big part of me went with you,
I’m not going to say you took it, because you didn’t,
I gave myself to you, piece by piece, little by little, I was giving who I am to you, for you,
And I’m not sure if I want those pieces back, no, I am certain I don’t want them back, they’re yours now, they’ve been tainted by the long nights of our meaningless conversations and the last surge of whatever fight I had in me to try and revive you and I.
my heart continues to hurt, achingly, but the one thing is each passing day it does hurt less by a fraction .
take me back with you
so we can gaze at the stars
one sin at a time.
Once when I was younger I was helping my mom set up the Christmas decorations and she dropped a clear tack onto the grey furry carpet and before I could say anything she bent down and began to look for it by running her hands along the carpet.
“Why are you doing that? Won’t it hurt if it sticks you?” Eight year old me asked with concern.
“Maybe but it’s better than you or your siblings finding it by stepping on it.”
This was the moment I began to understand that my mom would hurt herself before she ever hurt her children.
The moment I began to understand the love of a mother.
I’m tired of being loved only half the time.
I’m beginning to realize how much I’m distancing myself from those who I love,
and if I’m being honest, I’m finding it hard to give a ****.
I spent a great deal of my time speaking and giving my attention to one person,
That when it’s time to put myself out there, I genuinely don’t know how,
It doesn’t mean I’m not trying, it’s routine for me to speak the way that I do expecting that the world is exactly like them,
Trying to redirect my brain and my heart is the most difficult part of moving on,
But I’m trying