I thought I was gonna make
it through just one day without crying.
But the tears managed to squeeze out
of the corner of my eyes as I tried to
fall asleep.
Sliding down my cheek and soaking
into my pillow,
leaving a black smudge from leftover
mascara.
I still love him.
I’m afraid I always will.

I don’t want to let you in
because I already know how it ends.

I imagined sitting beside him.
Leaned against his shoulder,
laughing about something.
I felt like I was home again.
I don’t know how to move on from that.
I feel lonely and scared around other people
because my person isn’t there.
I don’t feel safe without him.

I had a dream about you.
I know you were there although
I can’t remember your face.
But I felt it in my heart when I woke up alone.

It was a warm spring night.
She lay on her bed, one leg half under the sheet.
She wore a teal night gown, the color her mother said matched her skin tone.
The space fan whirred in the corner,
the tv casting color into the dark room.
But it felt quiet, for once in her life.
The only voice she could hear would be her own.
So she spoke.
“It will be okay.”

Sometimes I have trouble spending time
with myself.
I make bad decisions, maybe I’ll drink too much, or waste money on stupid things.
I don’t think I’m very pretty to look at
and my gut hasn’t stopped growing since
sometime last year.
I can be funny, I guess.
But I’m too sarcastic and pessimistic.
I’m not original, I can’t draw, paint, write or dance.
I don’t even have good style.
I know everyone says you have to love yourself before you can love anyone else...
But I think some ******* said that once and since it kinda sounds like Dr. Seuss we all just took it as bible.
Because I have definitely loved someone,
and treated them better than I treat myself.
I don’t know, I wish I could be someone else.

I can’t go back and read anything
I’ve written in the last year.
I don’t know if I ever will.
It makes my stomach hurt.
So I’ve kind of quit writing;
for now.
I don’t need to remember this
part of my life.