i've spent so much time in my bedroom
that i've memorised the walls.
i know every stain
every scratch
like the back of my hand
because it's become my new every day

i guess my physical presence
was the reminder of my existence
and now that it's gone
i'm no longer present in their thoughts
and so i'm left here
alone

i crave your touch
and the safety of your arms around me,
engulfing me into your being,
surrounding me with your warmth
and encapsulating me in a moment with you.

i don't want you to meet me halfway,
i want us to soar together
above everyone and everything
dancing amongst the clouds
and singing with the sun

but you can't even text me back.

it's as close as i can get

but seeing you
your smile
your eyes
just you

you rip through me
and the longing i feel makes my heart swell
and sink
down to the floor
and i need you here

it's not close enough

i give more than i receive
and i wonder if i deserve more.
but if meeting half way,
and giving less than i feel,
is how to gain equality in our love,
i don't want it.

i can't pretend there's no pit in my stomach
or tug on my heart
or smile on my face
whenever i see you.

no matter what i do,
i can't make your fire burn brighter,
harder
and hotter
for me.

so am i naive to stay
for the affection i receive
when it takes more than it gives?
or is that just love:
it's imperfect.
and i choose it,
him,
us,
every day.

i miss the bare minimum that you gave me
i waited on every text
relished every call
and every time our eyes met i fell in love all over again
i was completely and utterly devoted to you
to loving you
to making sure you felt loved

but now i don't even have the cradle of your voice
or how held i felt when we locked eyes
and the warmth of your embrace

you've left me cold and unsheltered

but i would still give you the shirt off my back
if i noticed your shiver
and i still answer every text
every call
because even though i'm not what you want
you're still everything

it would have been 7 years today
i don't think about you much anymore
but you still cross my mind some days
usually when i'm alone
i'm not sure why

i'm not sure why
i read through our messages for hours the other day
noticing things i didn't notice back then
like how you'd only call me baby when you were *****
you'd say you want me, not that you miss me
you'd say you wanted to kiss me, not hug me
you'd want me in your bed, not in your arms
i didn't notice how every time you seemed loving and enthusiastic
the conversations would always turn to ***
i never recognised the pattern
just excited that you seemed to want to talk to me
rather than the short responses i'd grown accustomed to
but the other shoe always dropped

i don't know how i didn't notice
how you became less interested in how i was doing
and more interested in what i was doing
how i'd spend more and more of my time with you naked
because it seemed to be what you wanted
and if we weren't, you felt distance
and i just wanted closeness
maybe i did notice but i ignored it
i'm not sure why

i'm not sure why
you broke things off
you said i deserved better
you said it wasn't fair to me
you said you didn't want to commit
you said a relationship wasn't right for you right now
you said you saw us more as best friends who also sleep together
you said you loved me but not enough
you said i was the best thing that's ever happened to you
you said you couldn't have me anymore
all after i travelled 6 hours to see you
you greeted me so happily
you used my body all day
and then
that

and i hate
that i begged
and i bargained
that i tried to convince you
to love me
to stay with me
and i let you keep using me
the rest of the weekend
as if that would help
as if that would change anything
as if that would close the chasm between us
i'm not sure why

i'm not sure why
i feel disgusted with myself
even now
i mean,
no, i didn't want to
i wasn't in the mood
i was never in the mood for anything
i never had the energy
but i did it for you
and i initiated it half the time
because i just wanted passion from you
but why did i have so little self respect
maybe i'm the reason it ended
maybe i did this to myself
debasing myself to please you
to keep you close
but, all the while, reducing my worth in your mind
maybe it felt okay to you
because i'd treated myself the same way
putting you above myself all the time
so maybe you did too

it would have been 7 years today
and i don't know how to feel
you turned into someone i don't recognise
maybe so did i
but i got better
i got my energy back
i don't want what you gave me anymore
i don't know why i ever did
i can't make myself hate you
but i hate what you did
and i hate myself even more for allowing it
for entertaining it
we were just kids
but i thought you wouldn't exploit me like that
but i guess i allowed it
so who's worse
who's to blame
i'm not sure

"i'll see you soon
by the next full moon
it won't be long, just wait."

the next moon came
nothing had changed
it wasn't written in our fate.

"wish you were here
so i could hold you near
and talk and laugh all day."

it wasn't to be
so i'd wait patiently
there were rules we had to obey

four months have gone by
every day i have cried
just sad and feeling alone.

"i miss you too much
i so crave your touch
i'd rather be there than at home."

just come and meet me
we'll do it discreetly
we don't have to tell anyone.

"now i just miss you more
and it's left my heart sore
and wondering, what have we done?"

you have to be willing to nurture the seed
to see what it will sprout

i have this crushing fear of mediocrity
that my life will be the same as millions of others
that i won't ever find my true purpose nor reach my full potential
i'll flicker away like a lone candle in the night
just to burn out and be tossed aside like all before me
my light never truly shining
nothing to set me apart

looking into your eyes
while our legs are intertwined
underneath the covers of your bed.
chests rising and falling
as my heart called out
for you to never leave me.
so still and so peaceful,
lying there in your arms,
time just passing around us.
like a single flower petal,
your beauty is fragile
and oh so precious.
never could i love anyone
or anything
in the same capacity.

i wonder what version of me lives in your mind
tell me what i look like through your eyes

I'm not going to sleep
because so far talking to you has been the best part of my day
and if i sleep now
tomorrow will be here quicker.

it's so tiring,
this back and forth in my brain.

i want to be better.
i want to be content
just as i am.
i want to be able to exhale,
relax
and shut out the voices that tell me otherwise.
but they overpower me.

"my stomach looks good today",
"my legs aren't huge",
"i'm not ugly",
i try to say as my hands tell a different story.
grabbing at fat and skin,
trying to find any imperfection to prove me wrong.
and this is where the confusion starts:
looking in the mirror.

what do i look like?
how should i feel?
am i actually fat?
am i deluded to think i might not be?
i have no idea the answer to any of those questions
and millions just like them scream at me.
every minute.
every day.

if i am fat,
should i be trying to lose weight?
or should i try to accept how i look?

i try to be better,
to cope,
but i don't know which voice is right.
i don't know who to listen to.
and i'm trapped in this in between.

it's ******* exhausting so someone just tell me what to do

the steel blue of your eyes fixated on me
like my presence was a gift in itself
the calloused tips of your fingers
grazing over my skin and pulling me close
you held me like nothing else mattered
as if time itself had stopped and given us this moment

the good morning messages and the evening calls
we fell asleep together even when we weren't
your subtle snores down the phone
replacing the heartbeat i'd hear resting on your chest
but sometimes we'd stay up until the sun broke through our windows
not regretting a moment of lost sleep

the walks along the common no matter the weather
to that place by the playground where we'd lie and spot planes
and you'd laugh and say it wasn't a competition
but we both knew that was only because you were losing
the same grass upon which you took the picture of a flower in my hand
it's wearing away but you still keep it in your wallet

your dogs jumping up and greeting me at the door
and your mother's smile when she sees me enter
us playing football with your brother in the garden
and laughing over slow motion replays of goals scored
i felt so at home in your home
as if your family was mine, like there was a special place for me

now i'm left wondering what to do
how am i meant to fill this enormous void
of the life that we had molded together
you had become a part of me
and i don't know how to separate it and become whole on my own

why did you do it?
we were kids,
children.
we were friends.
i trusted you.

how could you see me,
know me,
a 12-year-old girl,
like you,
and do that.

you've probably forgotten.
but if it came up, you'd probably laugh.
a silly little thing you did way back when.
it's been nearly a decade,
but it still haunts me.

it's woven in the fibres of my being,
i can't remove it.
it's scars mark every interaction,
every relationship.
i can't trust anymore.

not since what you did.
that little mistake,
that small lapse in judgment,
that momentary blip,
is my trauma.

and how is it fair that you get to forget,
you get to move on,
when i'm stuck feeling like that 12-year-old girl,
even 10 years later.
why did you do it?

the best moments deserve immortalisation in my words,
and my brain doesn't deserve the torture of the worst ones.