Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Anina Chanele Feb 2019
I'm breathing you in. I'm taking the steps.
I'm enamored by all that you are. All that you do.
I beg for your touch, just to feel you.
You hold my everything.
You are everything.
You tell me to move, who am I to question you?
Every breath you breathe shakes me to my core
And at just the very mention of your name, I'm a wreck.
A sobbing, weeping mess on the floor and still, for me it isn't enough.
It never will be.  
All you ever ask from me is all of me and dare I say I am not worthy.
Forgive me that the words escape my lips, my heart, without a second thought.
I never meant to waste your grace.
As I sit in your presence inhaling the sweetness of your existence,
I find myself coming to my senses.
I haven't breathed in the fullness of all that you are.
I haven't taken the steps to fall over the cliffside of your love.
Had I breathed you in or walked in your footsteps, I'd see that you are love.
You are joy.
To take in your existence is to live out your existence.
If I do not live in your existence and put my existence to bed,
Have I ever really begun to exist?
Anina Chanele Feb 2019
I’m trying to give you my happy pill.
The one that takes the hurt away.
Erases the past.
I’m trying to show you the light.
I’m trying to get you to see that this isn’t your fight.
He’s biting, and kicking, and screaming for you.
Put down the sword and let him do it.
Let him take the pain away.
I’m standing with my hand stretched out, with tears in my eyes,
Because I can’t stand to see you battle with what keeps you up at night.
Just take it.
Take the pill.
Stop the pain.
Feel the breeze.
Let him in.
I see now that I can’t make you take my hand, but with all that’s within me,
I need to see you with him.
Take the pill.
Stop the pain.
Feel the breeze.
Let him in.
Anina Chanele Feb 2019
Who am I?
What am I doing?
I'm chasing the purpose that YOU chose for me.
I'm screaming and shouting but it doesn't even seem to reach beyond my very own thoughts.
Am I not good enough?
Can nobody see me?
I feel like I'm pushing my way into something that I didn't even want for me.
Oh my God, I'm sitting here seeking what?
Identity? Validation?
For what?
I haven't even done anything.
Do I have some sort of complex where everything feels like it revolves around me?
What the hell am I doing?
I feel stupid!
Pouring my feelings out to people that can't even hear me.
I left one calling searching for the next big thing and now what?
Jesus! What am I supposed to be?
Who am I?
I guess its time for me to go back to being whoever you want me to be.
Anina Chanele Feb 2019
I used to think, to fully experience you, I had to cry.
To feel sorrow or grief of some sort.
Maybe because seeing your face meant the pain would come flooding back.
Pain of the mistakes, the empty promises, the what-ifs or maybes.
Pain of the loneliness, the brokenness, the abuse,
or maybe just the simple reminders of how many times I used you.
And seeing how others acted around you would make me think that they were getting the same feelings, but accompanied with the memory of how you saved them from themselves.
I used to think there was something wrong with me.
Why were my cheeks not tear-stained?
Why was I not on my knees?
Was that you even speaking to me?
I used to think they were freaks.
Screaming and running.
Dancing and singing.
Laughing and also trembling.
That was of course until you liberated me.
When I was a child I thought as a child.
God, how foolish of me,
to think You would cause me grief.
I was blind, but now I see, that you are the bringer of peace.
I can't help but sing.
I can't help but be everything I mocked,
Everything I thought I would never be.
I see now that I no longer grieve because you have brought me joy.
You have brought me life and life more abundantly.
There's absolutely nothing wrong with me.
What once was broken, scarred, and empty is now whole.
Thanks to you, I'm happy to say that I can finally breathe.
Anina Chanele Mar 2019
I’m sorry to think of you this way
I’m sorry to say what I’m about to say
I’m sorry to hurt you again but
I wish I never met you
I wish I never gave you my heart, you know, the one that you hold so dear
you pull its strings like a marionette and honest to God it disgusts me
I wish I never handed you the tightly sealed bottle of all my dreams and fears
I wish I knew that one day you would use it to make sure that just the slightest touch would defeat me
I wish I wasn’t so scared to say you’re no good for me
you robber of hope, of day, of life
I wish I never came back time after time to take back your heart after you broke mine
I wish I had the strength to kick you out and move on
because with every word from you I hear hell’s song
I wish I wasn’t so fragile, so weak, or broken
I wish every time I give in I didn’t feel like I’ve been robbed again
robbed of innocence, of grace, of love
ashamed to even go up to my dad and give him a hug
I wanna scream cry and burn every bridge that leads to you and your twisted lies
but until that day the only words I have for you are Goodnight and Goodbye
Anina Chanele Mar 2019
He's unlike any other.
He's outgoing but shy when he wants to be.
Easy to miss if you don't know where to look.
He's got eyes that pierce your heart.
You look into them and you can see everything he is;
the happy and the sad.
His smile is perfect.
His smile makes your problems melt away.
His small bursts of excitement are ones to make your spirit jump.
Maybe he doesn't mean much to many but to me,
he's everything.
Every exchange of words opens a new door that was once bolted.
He's taller and older but age is but a number right?
If we were just friends I'd be ok.
Because just to know him is enough for me;
but what would it be like for his gaze to shift and tables to turn?
For him to look in my eyes and see a world of possibilities?
For him to see my smile and smile too just because he knows it was all because of him?
What would it be like for him to be the hand I reach out for when I feel alone?
Or the arms for me to be in for the reassurance of safety?
Honestly, I just want him to know that I see him.
All of him.
I see the little things and admire them all.
I notice when he's missing before anyone else;
not because I like to look at him from across the room, but because the room changes when he's in it.
He's a boy so pure I wouldn't even be mad if it wasn't me.
Just to see his smile, to know he's happy, well that's all that matters to me.

— The End —