Hang in there.
I know times are tough but that's okay, that's part of life.
I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you.
Proud of you for taking all the ******* and bearing with it.
Absorbing all the crap that life has given you and using it to become better.
You held on for so long that now, it's time to let go.
Let go. Let go of what hurts you, everything that once made you feel alive but came crashing down like the waves on high tide.
One thing to remember, never regret. Never regret loving someone just because they caused you pain. Remember that once, that person gave you a reason to smile or make you feel like you were the happiest person on Earth. That person made you feel love even if now, it barely means anything.
I remember you being so restless, so helpless because you didn't know what to do. That was 6 months ago when you thought everything was meant to be, when you thought that that person was the one for you.
Even if he wasn't, he's meant to be in your life for a reason.
It's a good thing you decided to give yourself space, because it's an ultimate test of friendship. You know that you can't live without this person, but maybe just not in that way.

You needed to start over.
Give yourself time, because in the end it will be worth it.
It will be worth it to wake up one day and feel okay again.
Yes, it's not bad to admit that you're hurting. Pain makes you human, so does love.
Obviously, you knew it was dangerous but you fell anyway. Not your fault, not a mistake. You had nothing to loose.

You had your pride.
But you learned how to swallow it for the person you were willing to fight tooth and nail for, even if you knew it wasn't worth it because they just didn't feel the same way.
Don't blame yourself for being confused. Being confused with the different kinds of love. Trying to find it in other people just so you can see if you could get over him.
Guess what? It didn't work, but again thats okay.
Yes, pain does make you loose your morals. It's inevitable and of course, it's also hard. It's hard to make the right decisions when you are blinded because you are so caught up in the feeling of being hurt.
But you know what?
You really kept it together. This might have been the most mature set of feelings you've had for a person. These feelings you knew were sure and real. These selfless feelings you've had because you knew you wanted another shot at the love that you wish you gave because in the past, you've received love and never gave it back.
You already know how important it is by now, and it's one thing to realize it and another to show it. You did both and you gave it a shot, even if in the end you didn't make it.

Dear self,
You deserve all the love that you have given.
All the love that you once gave to this special person who probably didn't deserve it as much. You gave so much love, but if you don't receive any you'll run out.
Maybe God is reserving you for the right person because He's waiting for the right time and place for it.
Thank you for knowing that, thank you for taking care of that person who has a special place in your heart even if it hurt so much. Thank you for not having bitter feelings like the past, for being more mature about everything. Also for accepting the fact that people will hurt you, even the ones you love, and even having the will to go on despite it.
You never gave up, you're not giving up on love. You're just wise to know when you've had enough.

Dear self,
*You are a fighter.

Heirlooms

Jun 2017

One day, parkouring through my uncles two story apartment,

I was drawn naturally to his desktop computer

upon which I found his OkCupid Dating profile.

I don't remember his username, Or anything about the site really,

But I remember the head-shot of a beautiful woman

framed above the desk

the sterile grey Rubbermaid totes behind me like caskets, 

How they made even the hardwood floors

look like they were holding in the dead.

For my Grandmothers birthday

my family gathered at Captain Newicks

her favorite seafood restaurant.

My uncle flirted with the waitress.

I don't think I've ever gone to a restaurant with my uncle where he

didn't flirt with the waitress.

Captain Newicks went out of business shortly after that dinner

followed shortly by my grandmothers life.

the relationship between my uncle and that waitress expired well

before both my Grandmother or Captain Newicks.

I remember asking my grandmother about my Uncle.

Tarots Fool would have predicted

my grandmothers eyelids

a silent prayer before her words.

He had two children by his first wife,

keeps a portrait of her above his desk.

She was a blessing on the family

Selfless amd loved by every one.

She took her own life

Spread her wings to break free from the cage He kept her locked in.

He buried his heart in her casket,

motorcycles, empty bottles

had a third child by a second wife

who buried her heart in drugs and strangers.

Amanda was 6 years old when her mother died.

my uncles wife. Her brother josh was 3

when she died my uncle wanted to put them both up for adoption

he didn't.

Their mother died on the 20th of September

a week after her 25th birthday.

their mother once bought a bunch of carnations

with a dead rose in the middle

and said "it looks like I'm dead".

she took a bottle of pills before going to a chinese restaurant

went out as a family

and collapsed at the table.

she was rushed to the hospital

she didn't make it.

their mother wasn't happy

her and my uncle were getting divorced at the time

lived in the same house that I grew up in.

when my uncle told the kids mommy wasn't coming home

my mother was 17 

and there to see all of it.

When my mother was 17 

she had to watch her baby cousins be told their mother had died.

When my grandmother passed.

grief bounced off of my uncles callouses

ricocheted to my cousins, robbed 

twice now of a selfless mother.

The tragedies in my family

have always enthralled me.

like shakespeare sonnets

I breath them into my faithless nights

tap an extra dream-catcher on my bedpost

in space of a prayer.

When The hearth-fire of our family dimmed 

a tealight in my grandmothers eyes.

grayed, Glossed.

she could no longer crochet 

one big dysfunctional quilt, 

together from our families yarn.

without her needle, 

I was determined to watch how our life spun forward.

The next time I saw my uncle,

He offered me a job.

Thick mosquito blinded us as we carried our sweat 

with Rubbermaid totes into a blue two story home 

deep in the evergreen thickets of Maine.

a tall white fan rotated slowly back and fourth 

Cooling the wet patches on our T-shirts while my Uncle 

flirted with the landlord

I still remember when my uncle tossed me the truck keys

the look of terror I gave him

How easy it was for him to trust

I guess when your heart is buried in a casket 

you stop worrying who has your keys.

It makes me remember

when my daughter asked for my keys 

I would sit her in the drivers seat

watch her pretend to drive.

I loved imagining her free

living how she wanted.

I still wouldn't give her my keys.

she would turn my car into a casket.

It makes me remember

when that little girls mother asked me to drive

My words spun portcullises

prison bars forged in anxiety

scaffolding out of latex secrets

Glued with siren smiles, pacifier kisses

denying cigarette smoke on her breath

fueling infernos in my head.

when my uncle handed me his keys without hesitation.

my religion was insulted by his tough skin.

I felt his simple kindness 

like a splash of holy water. 

saw in me, the devil 

caging a woman like property

holding her hostage 

out of fear.

And yes 

when She could drive she left me

And yes 

when she left me she took her daughter.

every morning 

cereal bowl of pills, I **** myself

keep a poster of my mothers face 

covered in bruises 

behind the tiny orange bottles 

to remind me why I do it.

wake up twice, 

first as Phoenix, dying

second as a watcher, writer and admirer.

callouses are not to protect us from the outside at all.

Callouses harden our bodies into caskets.

Hold in all our dead.

i tried to find
a song
a poem
a piece of art
something, anything
that felt like
or sounded like
you

i looked
and searched
asked
and wondered
yet no matter what
i tried
there was nothing
that came close

for you
my platonic soulmate
are one of a kind
a light in the dark
warm, soft
kind, loving
selfless
a best friend

i couldn't find anything
because
nothing
nothing is like you

I hate myself
and my blandness.
I hate my hair
and my sadness.
I hate my nose
and my bruteness.
I hate my feet
and my bitterness.
I hate my legs
and my desperateness.
I hate my wrists
and my selfconsciousness.

Perfection
Beauty
Happy
Brilliance
Selfless
Excitement

Nothing.