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Caitlin May 2014
I love you.
Not like a child loves ice cream,
or like a child loves a new puppy.
I love you like the magnetic pull of opposite ends of magnets.
I love you like that deep seated feeling of satisfaction.
Loving you doesn't feel like some childish whim.
It doesn't feel like the short lived euphoria of enjoying ice cream.
It doesn't feel like the love that fades as the puppy grows up.
It doesn't feel like the unintentional fleeting love that children posses.
Loving you feels like the most natural, basic process my cells can do.
Caitlin May 2014
I am a collection of scars.
Each tells a story.
Some from a childhood of laughter and a carefree attitude,
others from lonely nights in the shadows with anxiety riddled thoughts pressing down on me;
as I pressed down on the blade.
Excerpt from a short story I am writing.
Caitlin May 2014
Don't ask don't tell doesn't work too well
when this has become an epidemic
Homes broken, trust shattered, lives lost.
All to uphold a standard and at what cost?
Don't talk about it and it'll go away,
or so they say.
If you can't trust those closest to you..
where do you turn?
Not him. not her. not them.
Yourself.
You bottle it up, because
if you don't talk about it, it goes away...right?
Caitlin May 2014
We talk about war, crime and poverty..
So why not the fight in our own homes?
We talk openly, gossip even about others,
but our home is off limits
everything is “perfect"
Behind closed doors
children weep, parents fight
some wondering about making it through the night
to uphold the standard, to not embarrass those who raised us
We stay silent.
If anyone asks “Everything is great"

But for how long?
How long do we bite our tongues, fight the tears and smile?
How long is too long?
We wait too long..
Better title?
Caitlin May 2014
Beautiful. That’s what they say.
But there is nothing beautiful about me.
I am not to be put on a shelf and admired.
I am not some fragile, stain-glass window.
I am my scars. I am the sleepless nights.
I am the suicidal thoughts at one am.
But I am also that voice that says “No live”
I learn from my mistakes.
I have earned my tiger strips.
I am a steel core of absolution.
Calling me simply beautiful, would be an insult.
Caitlin May 2014
I always said “I’ll be fine”
I was okay, cracked around the edges but okay
Always told myself to smile
someone somewhere has it worse than me
Never acknowledged how broken I was.
Until I truly met the girl who I had given the title
“That ***** that broke and stole my best friend”
She dated him longer than I did, true.
He seemed to trust her as much as he trusted me, true as well.
They broke up… and got back together and broke up..and ect.
When they had broken up for good, I decided to make her acquaintance.
Not out of spite or anger, but to extend the olive branch.
And it was here that I met my worst fears.
I saw a girl so hurt, broken and beaten by the guy I idolized.
And realized, take two years off my age…and I was looking in a mirror.
A ******* ******* mirror.
I convinced myself he hadn't hurt me, broken me or changed me..then I realized he’d done more damage than could be repaired.
I saw this all in another girl who might as well have been me.
funny how people lie, but I enjoy the writing nonetheless
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