When you lose your mind to find your soul.
There's pieces of you that are left behind on purpose.
Pieces that are lost from your mind,
that you have to find again.
Chunks of me were knocked out by devotion.
Blessed with gifts of a reconstructor,
Given the title "autodidact".
When all the love 1 human can channel has gone dismissed
Do you know how much willpower it takes
for that human to learn not just to love again
To love themselves over the expected limit.
I begin to think I've done it all wrong.
There's this selfish dedication that I have towards myself.
I refuse to indulge in any type of intimacy.
Afraid of picking up pieces that are supposed to be apart of me.
I can only allow myself to love me.
Anything other than that is foreign to me.
I do not need your commitment
I have shown myself that word is an understatement.
I wipe my own tears.
I hug myself.
I wake up and force myself to eat when I do not want too.
That is the allegiance I have for myself.
I do not NEED you.
So I HAVE TO be everything I want in the next so I do not
fail myself by begging like a dog just for reciprocation.
I'm labeled independent by some.
Characterized myself as foolish,
for not realizing that it is adequate for any version of love
to love me as much as I do.

these days I analyze and modify my routine
each second I spend of the 24 hours,
with hope I can control the fluctuations of how I feel
in a day.
I brush my teeth, I critically think of everything,
I'm going insane.
I'm normal just like you.
I Feed myself scenarios and "what ifs" for breakfast
(I'm feeling all of it for a reason, it'll come back soon.)
Ponder much more, move much less.
I'm normal just like you.
I'm scanning over old art to feel the emotions I once felt,
(is it possible to feel comfortable within anger?
Shall I not propose a better path for myself?)
Then again, pondering more, moving very less.
I'm normal just like you
By the afternoon my conscious mind has ran it's way
through my past experiences
always giving me the urge to ask questions
I wish I didn't know the answer too.
I'm normal just like you
Now the world has shut down
and I sit in my room, empty mind
mouthful of smoke.
I'm able to see it all clearly,
I'm normal, the things I indulge in? Maybe not.
Do you remember who you were before the world
told you who you should be?

I want to rip the flesh off of my skin
there's a need to burn the love
that is left lingering in my heart.
I have gone mad.
The percentage of oxygen is going down.
I'm inhaling dejection and I can not let myself exhale.
I've flooded my sheets with tears.
The hallways mimic the sounds of my despair.
I want to dive my hands into my chest
and give my heart a fatal hug.
I wish I could pull the strands of nostalgia out of my brain
from my ear.
If only I could tell my 13 year old self
"love will ruin you, especially in the ways you were not taught"
I thought love was my parents tucking me in bed at when I was 4
or my sister taking me to school every morning
nobody told me it's the universe's biggest set up.
That I am locked in a cage and I'll be 24
still wondering if your eyes look the same
still wondering if your heart still sings the same song as mine.
I wish the love I have for you had conditions.
Rules, regulations.
All I can do is kiss my skin in ways you couldn't.
And put out the fire that burns inside of me.
I have to learn how to breathe all over again.
The rest of my tears seal up the end of this love letter.
I close my eyes and let my head dump everything out.
In the morning I hope it stays empty.

there's a night where I look up at the ceiling
the same way I do every night
and won't see pity in the
love that is left over.
I'll take it as what it is.
I'll stop trying to choke it out of me,
like it doesn't belong with me.
As if my love doesn't make me who I am.
I'll stop taking your lack of reciprocation
as a declaration of war
to prove to you I'm worth being seen.
I won't mistake convenience as connection
attention as affection.
I won't rebuild my heart with solid pieces.
I'll still love in colors and respect.
when that night comes I'll still love you.
I'll always love you, but not in ways that flood my eyes
or in ways that can physically make me feel my heart shatter.
I'm not afraid of loving you from a distance anymore.
I'm not afraid of the version of myself
that has moved forward from you.

I seen a picture of me back to the time
when my hair was teal
my hair is raging red now.
I seen the smile on my face and wondered
what back then could have replaced my melanin
with shades of pink.
It was a picture taken by my sister
while I called you.
I seen a screen recording of one our FaceTime calls.
This time I wasn't so focused on you
but the lightness in my voice
I speak too harshly for some now.
and the look on my face.
I smile less more now.
I know her, but she doesn't know me.
I know things she'll never know.
She wouldn't believe me if I said we don't talk anymore
I seen a picture I took of you.
It's been a while since I've seen those eyes.
I push back my teal hair to reveal the rose on my cheeks.
I smile.
I smile and actually mean it.
I'm still that girl, I'll always be that girl.
I'll spend a lifetime trying to find something other than you
that will make her come out again.
I miss you, me.

it's like my pen is filled with love instead of ink
and writes your name in the color of affection.
Missing you isn't
"I miss talking to him."
           or
  "I miss his laugh."
  even more not "I miss his voice."
it's pining the placidity behind your eyes,
seeing a sliver of your soul in a stare.
The way my name spirals off of your tongue
alerting the butterflies in my stomach to scatter.
The way your body was sculptured so perfectly.
Each muscle, every vein.
I thank whoever is up above and the time they took.
How the smile lines sit upon your face
and I see a glimpse of the child within you.
It's mostly the way you look at all I am
and see everything in nothing.
It's like my pen is filled with with love
the only difference is there's hints on melancholy
and writes your name in the color of woe.
Loving you isn't
   "I love his vibe."
        or
      "I love his style."
even more not "I love his personality."
It's me loving everything that makes you
who you are
Being present to watch
each birth
every era
into the person you become
it's wondering what can I do to assist you?
Giving you pieces of me without hindering myself.
it's knowing in this realm and outside of it
I will follow the traces of your essence
left on my path
I-
Great, now my pen is empty.
At least I'm still able to write your name in my head.