I got to the point where I didn’t have enough self-respect to get out of it for myself.

But I did it for my daughter.

Let me explain.

I loved a guy. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. And I’m not sure if it’s one of those loves that can be replicated.

But like most crazy loves we were toxic and our highs were in the clouds and our lows were in hell.

We did things.
We both did things.
That were not ok.

After we ended it.
He ****-shamed me.  

He called me easy.
Worthless.
A notch on a belt.

It was awful.
It was cruel.
It was All said in anger.

After time went on we reconciled. He apologized for what he said. He tried to make amends. He’d call me and say things to **** me back into this chaos of us.

I wanted to go back.
I still want to go back sometimes so ******* bad that it eats at my soul.

But I don’t.

And I don’t do it because of my fierce self-love. I wish I could say I do.

I wish I dig my heels in and look into the mirror and give myself a fierce talk and I’m good.

But sometimes that’s not enough.

When it’s not.
I do it for my daughter.

Because I will not allow her to have a father who has ****-shamed her mom.

I will not allow her to have a sexist father, who thought less of a woman because of the number of people she chose to have *** with.

I will not sit on her bedside when she’s crying over a boy and tell her she deserves to be treated better when I know I chose I did not.

I will not be the coward that tells her to be strong while gritting my teeth to suppress the memories of abuse I have endured.

I will sit on her bedside.
Look her dead in the eye and tell her, honestly.

I have been there before.
I left.
I’m better for it.

I decided to raise the bar for all women when I took a stand for what was unacceptable and she can and should continue to raise that bar.

In that moment. It will be worth it.

In apple growing-warmth,
I found oceans between eyelashes and Pacific air.

Ligamented with smoke, skeleton hands crafted cigarettes of honey and curling floral sweetness.

For soft-haired royalty, I bowed my heart and washed my skin in space and rainy wishes.

I drowned myself in polish remover, to show the stripped beauty of love and life
to a sun who lives off alcohol and notions of wouldn't it be nice?

But I, the noiseless patient spider,
who has flung gossamer after thread,
am reaching for nothing but an earth flower,
One who I thought loved me,
or at least that’s what she said.
((one who sees through rose-pink eyeglasses,
and speaks in feathered song.))

Still, I sleep well under starless skies,
where urban northern lights burn the dark,
charred there by city windows and boundless passing cars.

Here, I wrap myself in a cloth galaxy,
and I paint the sun with blackberry juice,
trading gold and diamonds for the simple hope
that someone might live up to you.

A sailor and an artist on boat.
They fell for each other in the middle of the oceans, under the sky.
Directions lost and silence felt,
The sailor kept moving,
The artist kept painting,
The sailor watched the lanterns rise in sky
The artist then painted the scene on the canvas.
For nothing more mattered to them
Then time and place they met,
The heavenly love created a beautiful memory of that of them,
That could not be erased.
A love without letters and flowers.
A journey of memories, that would be with them always and forever.
That is how a sailor and an artist met.

We were like two phrases lost in translation. We made perfect sense in a language that I spoke and not at all in the language you knew.
We were like two stars that almost seemed to be touching, but were light years away. You wouldn’t know if I collapsed before it was too late.
We were like two dominoes, stacked against each other. If you fell, I’d fall with you.
We were like an eclipse. When we were together, I saw you and they saw you, but no one could see me.
We were like champagne, perfect for fancy occasions only.
We were like two halves of a broken heart. We could complete each other but we didn’t really fit.
We were like two coins, that made a lot of noise together but had lesser value apart.
We were like two nights, one darker than the other. But both still, silent, and calm.
We were like magic. I thought we were real, but you called it an illusion.
We were like two flowers blooming to be beautiful alone, but we had a stronger fragrance together.
We were beautiful. But I guess only I see it this way. Because we were like two pairs of eyes always seeing things differently.

Sometimes
I look outside and watch the rising sun
not for any particular reason
just for fun

Sometimes
I go to the kitchen and start to dance
not with anyone else
just myself and the pans

Sometimes
I cry until the oceans are dry
not because of someone else
just for the others who die

Sometimes
I get so mad I just want to go fight
not to inflict pain on anyone
but because some do to cause fright

Sometimes
I try too hard to find love
not because i'm desperate
but I don't always feel it from above

Sometimes
I don't see the truth in front of me
not because It's not there
but because I choose not to see.

People don't really ever change
They stay the same
They have one home they go back too
One smell that brings them back when they close their eyes
There's always one lover they remember more than others
Always that one home cooked meal that they crave
One person they long to see after years apart
There's one gravestone they will fix the crooked flowers of
One old friend they wish they hadn't lost track of over time

There is always the same roots to one tree even if the branches fall off
People don't really ever change