We have been through a lot
The ups, the downs and the twist and turns and  whatnots,
but I'm still a stranger in your world;
I prayed for your love, I asked to be a part of your life,
And our hearts now beat as one;
But I'm still a stranger in your world,
I know it's not your fault;
But it still hurts my wound like salt,
Sometimes I feel that I numb all these pain with alcohol
But this past indiscretion of mine is what haunting us all
Now I feel strong enough so I don't fall, and soon enough
I'll stand tall and
That's when you will make me a part of your world, once and for all
And I'll stop feeling like a stranger in your world,
Lonely and small;
Sweetheart, that day is not far away when you will proclaim me to the world as the one,
Till then I'll just hold on and fight everyday and remain strong...

to hear the words, “i was scared” fall from your lips was all the closure i thought i needed.
but i have my answers now, and i don’t feel much better. maybe i feel worse.
closure is a ******* hoax.
my mind can’t leave something behind if it doesn’t make sense to me,
and no explanation will ever make this make sense.
there will always be more questions, more questions, more questions…
i’ll live with the weight of it until they become background noise, like the videos i fall asleep to
until i know they’re there but i can’t hear what they’re asking or what it all means anymore.
but the thought that you couldn’t love someone who would have died for you
god, i wish that thought could leave me the way that you did.

Bleeding…
Aching…
Shattering  
I told myself this would never happen again

Yet I find myself grasping for the pieces of my heart
Wheezing…
Weeping…
Grasping for air

I told her to be careful with our heart
I told her not to fall
Yet she craved to love and to be loved

When will you learn to love yourself
To fill the emptiness with self love instead of love from another

Some of you,
Some of you are kind
Some of you,
Some of you are mean

Mean
And this word feels insignificant
Feels childish
Feels empty, and hollow, and small, and nothing, and yet
That’s what you are,
Because that is what you have made me
Because, all of you
All of you,
Have tiny pieces of me.

To all the men that have found me,
You have found the part of me you want.
Years I have spent crafting to reflect the version of myself you want to see.
Like wrapping myself up as a present
I tailor the ribbon, the colours all for you
Am I messy?
Are my corners ripped and jagged?
Does my bow come loose?
Is my tape perfectly invisible?
Do I open with ease?
Can you guess what’s inside?
Am I something you asked for?
Do you need the receipt for an easy return?
Am I the on the wish-list?
Am I the forth pair of socks you really didn’t need?
Are you going to use me everyday?
Am I essential?
Am I just a toy?
Will I collect dust amongst the mountains of things you acquire as you gracefully move through life?
Will you remember me, pull me out amongst the stacked piles of your memories, dust me off and smile at the faint recollection of my touch?
Will you assemble me, build me up as something to be proud of, or will you leave me in the box, still scattered in pieces?
Will you recycle me, regift me, give me to charity when you’re done with me, when I don’t quite fit anymore, when I don’t quite work anymore, when I don’t quite match your aesthetic, mirror the version of yourself you want to exist as, act in accordance to your will, moan on time, smile on time, talk on time, preform on time, dance on time, laugh on time, listen on time, love on time.

Please god love me,
Please lord see me,
Please man hear me,
Please boy need me,
Want me,
Want me,
Want me.

I am so tired of being suffocated in the versions of myself I have crafted for you
men
I am so bored of reproducing the same giggle, coy smile and gentle whisper to entice you
Men
I am so fed up with hating myself before you can
Men
I am so sickened by the way I objectify myself to tailor to your high school *******
Men
I am so exhausted of reshaping my mouth to fit perfectly into yours
Men
I am so broken over not being special enough, not loud enough, not quiet enough, not brave enough, not clumsy enough, not **** enough, not coy enough, not funny enough, not stupid enough, not smart enough
Men
I am so done with writing not enough.

Like a broken music box,
My heart seems to skip over the same note on repeat
And you think it’s frustrating to your ears
Oh my god am I enraged at this same song
This same despondent pinging in which every single note seems just off

You slap me amongst your key rings and let dangle centimetres away from the lock that holds the access point to your heart
And I know I am more than just an ornament
More than just a house plant you forget to water
More than just your 2 day old Chinese food that you hope won’t make you sick
More than just that old sweater never wear but that you keep because it smells like home
More than just the at home gym equipment you bought because you said “new year, new me”
More than just your hobby,
More than just your prize,

I have spent years,
Building the small part in myself I hope someone will call home
And here you are treating it as though it is a cage

To all the men I know,
To all the men I’ve known,
I am no longer comfortable bending, reshaping, cracking, adjusting at the will of your glance
I am angry, not because I am malleable
But because your hands made me so.

Will it feel the same way
If I give you a poem today?
The same as the day I first conveyed.

Will you fall in love with me again?
Will you believe that it's me and you
Until the end?

Can we revive the butterflies, the withered flowers,
And the nights of thoughts and dreams ?

Can I hold your hand again ?
Without promises or wishes,
I am simply the man you once sought.
The man who gives you love,
And not colorful leashes.

Will that be possible?
I will give you some time.
Will your heart be able?
To give a chance to this heart of mine?

I wished you’d tell me you miss me…so i can know that I’m not wasting my time missing you.