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I miss you.
I miss your smile.
I miss your laugh.
I miss your hugs.
I miss your kisses.
I miss you.
But you’re at work,
So I’ll see you soon.
I didn’t write much about those days, ******* in her cold words, to the pit of my stomach.
My anger pushing down further and further until I became a shell of a person.
I was helpless, but I had my own lighthouse.
Days felt like nights, cold;
Icy words, I’d **** them down like my straw to a perfect chocolate milkshake.
Cold, down to the pits of your stomach.
Years and years, until the ground shook and I spoke.
It wasn’t one specific moment in time but all the little moments, all the digs; all their faces, accusing.
All in a moments time, gone.
All the anger, all the rage slowly starting to disintegrate into nothing; I’m not saying it didn’t take some time.
From the warm weather to the leaves falling.
It wasn’t just me, you caused pain to.
It wasn’t just me, that had to heal.
You broke something that I’m incapable of repairing.
I hope everyday when you wake up, I’m in the back of your mind.
Every holiday, birthday, we will miss, because you broke it.

The leaves will fall, the seasons will change.
But I have my little family and I am free.
Parts of me are broken.
Parts of me are healing.
Parts of me are out of order.

Parts of me are hard where they used to be soft.
Parts of me are stronger.
Parts of me are soft, loving, and nurturing.

Parts of me are teaching.
Parts of me are learning.
Parts of me are growing.

Parts of me are kind.
Parts of me are angry.
Parts of me are beautiful.
Parts of me are vile

All the parts of me
As angry,
As ugly
As dark,
As kind
As beautiful
As imperfect,

All these parts of me,
As much, as they bother me,

I still get to be me, and I still get to be loved by you.
Meg Thompson Sep 18
I hope every morning at 4am, when the world is dark and you crawl out of bed and you’re getting dressed or smoking a cigarette, you know you’re loved.
I hope everyday you know you’re appreciated and seen.
I hope that when a song comes on you think of me.
I hope you know you’re my moon in the darkest skies and my sunrise on a dewey morning.
I hope you know when you touch me, I melt.
Your sweet words follow me throughout my day.
I hope you know you take my breath away.
I hope you know you’re safe, you’re loved and that you’re cherished.
I hope.
Meg Thompson Sep 17
I forgot how it felt to hold a paperback in your hands, the smooth cover and the weight held in your hands, that book smell.
The crisp pages you turn, with each breath soaking in the words forming a story that only you can hear.
It’s almost like it just melts in your hands sending vibrations through you, jolting you gently as you curl up under a warm blanket with a cup of tea and you think to yourself, “this is so good”, aching for the next word, hanging on to what happens next; but you feel a calmness as you find yourself comforted by each page and by the end you experience every emotion, because the journey has ended, but your left with the thought of those words, on those crisp pages.
Paperback.
Meg Thompson Sep 11
“I
   Was
     Broken
        To
        Protect you
            And you were broken to understand me”

“You're silly, you’re cute, you’re annoying”
“You don’t like me?”
“That’s not what I said,  I LIKE YOU”
Giggles and smiles.

-Watching Star Wars-

“Were you sad when Liam Neeson died?”
“That ******* died?”
“No in the movie silly”
As we talked about how he became one with the universe, force
I giggled until I was snorting.


You’re asleep.
You are laying next to me, you’re so beautifully masculine; your hair brushed against the pillow.
I love days with you, but at nighttime when the world is quiet, from your hair to your arms, your warmth, your heartbeat. I could lay here and say that every moment led me to that high, that need for your touch,
And for who you are, every breath I have in your presence is a breath not wasted.
You are my every heartbeat, you are my joy, you’re my peace and my light, darkness when you need to be, but with you I’ll always be safe, you will always be my home.
And here I go to sleep and dream of roses and playing pool and letters and post it’s and sweet nothings that leave butterflies and daydreams, blushing and being yours, Moments of laughter and the feeling as though the night went by too fast but here we are. You are my very first and last thought. You are a perfect dream. You are my peace. Goodnight.
Meg Thompson Aug 23
Everyday with you is a dream.
Today you made me laugh so hard I cried.
You looked into my eyes and sang to me.
We talked for hours.
Everyday with you is a dream,
Today I giggled yelling “come get me” and I ran across the house, hid in the corner giggling, giggling so loud, you found me and of course that was my plan.
You came over saying how did you fit in there?
Giggling the whole time and cracking jokes about it all.
You give me this feeling like there’s no way any of this could be real, a dream come true, like a fairy tale.
All of us laughing, I know this can’t be real.
You’re home.
I swear, everyday with you is a dream.
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