one minute phone call.
"i just wanted to hear your voice."
the permanent uneasiness that resides in the pit of my stomach,
i couldn't feel it anymore.
the corners of my lips turned upward.
i said,
"i missed your voice.".

i cut myself open to find new wounds,
to touch old scars that time "healed".

now i can't stop thinking of everything they all said;
"you have no friends because you're fat.
you're the reason you're always alone.
so scared all the time, of course no one wants to be around you,
you gained fat.
you're fat.
what are you wearing?
i don't love you anymore, maybe someone else will.
you don't get to leave.
you don't get to decide when this is over.
i wish i could just leave you here alone.
i don't want to look at you.
this is all your fault.".

all my fault.
it was my fault i was overweight, then underweight, then "just right".
you never saw those showers where i'd be hunched over,
mouth in a cup.

all my fault.
you made me believe i said the wrong things when i told you made me sad.
you left me when i told you you made me sad.

all my fault.
i wanted to leave you and you told me i couldn't.
i wanted to be free from you.

i want to sew myself back up and forget again.

dear moon,

oh dear, what have we got here?
don't cry.
i mean, it might feel nice to laugh about it now.
so delete it all,
the pictures and messages and screenshots.
delete it all if it makes you feel better.
switch to another account and pretend like nothing happened,
if it makes you better.
you keep telling yourself that you wish he would just say what he means,
look at what you're doing.
do what you want until you feel better,
you might forget for a little bit.
you might want to fly away into the storm,
you might succeed in doing so.
anything to make you forget for a little bit.
you still have his message though.
untouched,
unread,
you're going to have to respond sometimes.
so many excuses, run away for a little bit, make yourself forget by putting the silk cloth over your face, tell yourself that no, this isn't real, just for now.
but he's still there.
it all still happened.
stop trying to run away, moon.

misinterpretations.
made something out of nothing.
of course he just wanted what was underneath my clothes,
i mean look at where we met.

but
you told me i was perfect,
you told me i was your favorite,
you told me i was the prettiest person you've ever seen,
you told me i was special,
you told me i made your heart full with love.

i told you to take care of my heart,
i told i've gifted it to you and you told me you'd take care of it.

you tossed it back and forth in your hands and you skipped around me,
i mistook it for something else.
i keep doing that.

but of course,
i was wrong.
let your beautiful voice and sweet compliments hug me and fill the air with pink smoke.
i was wrong,
again.

you kept telling me i was your favorite,
i wanted to ask you what that meant every time but when you spoke
it wasn't on my mind anymore.
you make all the nervousness in the pit of my stomach go away,
my hands don't feel so shaky anymore,
and my brain feels clearer.
in front of me, all i can see is
You.
and you're so beautiful.

picked up the phone and heard my voice telling myself that it would be okay,
eventually.

i hate how much emotion is held in photographs.