I wear the sweater you slipped over my head after *** but now I wear it because it looks good on me with a pair of leggings.
It doesn’t smell like you, it smells like me.
If someone compliments it, I tell them how comfortable it is and that I got it from the men’s section at Old Navy.

The Matriarch of my family stands 73 years tall
One hip replacement
One lung and a long history of putting others before herself
She holds me as she cries
She whispers that she is so sorry for creating a history of women who put more love into men
Than they do themselves
I tell her
Not me Nana
I tell her that she is the most resilient woman on the planet
That selling her wedding rings and escaping material custody
Forced across the country with two small children is the bravest thing she has ever done
I reassure her that poverty is better than abuse
That one day I’ll take care of us all
I’ll stretch myself so big and hold all the women who live within lingering shadows
Scared to flee when it feels the entire universe is screaming stay into your face
Banging against the wall with angry fists
I tell her
Not you Nana
You don’t need saving

Loving you was like handing a picked flower to a swarm of bees
Small gestures with premeditated endings
Good intentions were not enough

I have been finding so much beauty in falling out of love with you
And the more I find this budding strength beneath my soft layers
The more I am thankful for your sins
Grateful for your hate you hand me
I accept your challenges with open arms
I’m afraid to love you forever
But I’d be glad to do it

He whispers scintillate
A ray of light
Look up and see that no one shines the same
He asks if I know that out there in the ether
There is a million people
And then there is me
Globule vivific and
Population statistics
A million and one he says
He speaks to me
Lately there’s been a ghost under his covers
Wrapped up in pale sheets under the twilight glow
I watch from his window
Towering a million miles high
I beg to reach out to shake his frame loose
The ghost in your bed belongs to my body
The friction of skin against cotton sheets
Cant you see my spark

Recently my friend expressed concern about my yearning for you
She told me that I was the first woman she’d ever met to not take a mans ****
She said really
You’ve never let any other man wrong you
You crush them between your soft palms and wipe away the residue
I wanted to tell her that one night two years ago
Curled up on the steps of my back porch
Under the humming lamp light
I was yelling at you over the phone
And you laughed
You told me that you found it beautiful when I stood up for myself
Little did you know that as your flattery soothed my ultimatums
I was letting hundreds of mosquitoes **** my veins dry
Blood dripping from my itchy skin
I did not swat them away

I forgive myself for weakened willpower
Loving the wrong person has always come easy
But old habits are hard to break
Especially when you’re constantly trying to fix them