I shed a tear for you
From time to time.
Sometimes a little.
Often a river
When I’m missing you.

So hard to find you
In the hustle of the grind.
Family first, y’know,
Day to day.

Then I remember,
I can’t ignore,
That you were once me
I once you,
That little boy,
The adolescent,
The teen.

These days I shed a tear for you,
And then realize that you are me.

nothing have i ever laid my eyes on something so tender and soft; the palm of his hand, and the tone he used as he speaks.

no matter how far i’ve wandered around, the string of mine goes back to him, a man whose existence caught my existence, 3 years ago, at Brighthelm.

something was giggling merrily inside of me the moment i was with him. it was my inner little girl, she was happy. a man that is so serene, a safe place to be with, and a situation where finally she doesn’t have to be in a survival mode. she couldn’t ask for more; that’s what she craves for. that’s enough. that’s enough for the rest of her life.

but she murmured, and asked me, will we ever be able to see him again? a part of me highkey wish to say “yes” but fate is something that’s not under my control, so, “i don’t know. we will see. but let’s just pray.”

I used to be hues of yellow,
Green, blue, purple, and red.
With the sky as my soul
Feeling vibrant and bold
Like the stories I spun in my head.

A girl made of stars
Is bound to burn out
If her light can no longer be fed.
Learned the rules, learned the game,
Then I scrapped my old ways,
Sinking in water that I used to tread.

Your face was a charcoal portrait,
So I touched it to just see you smile.
But I smudged you all up and I’m covered in gray,
And the light, it retreats when I’m in the sun’s rays,
And I feel like the night everyone wishes was day—

But I take a deep breath.

And I find that old spark.

Just to realize that it never even went away.

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to hide.

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to perform.

I hear you, little girl,
You are now growing into a woman.

I hear you, little girl,
And cry for the things that were stolen.

I cry for you little girl,
You can just be.

I cry for you little girl,
You are brave with much to offer.

I smile for you, little girl,
And am so proud of who you’ve become.

I heal for you, little girl,
And let you rest for a while.

I want to smoke something
And I want to be touched
I am tired of moving and doing
I want to lay down and explore
And sway on someone
Who’s body can support mine
I want to share a laugh with a peer
I want to exist in space
With someone
Has my anxiety been high lately? I wonder
I wonder if something is wrong with me
The little scared child comes from behind the screen
Tears brim in her eyes
And she wonders if she did something wrong
“No” I tell her
As I wrap her in my arms
Put on sweet music
And dance around
“You have never done anything wrong in your life”
And everything becomes okay
And I can lay here
Touch my sternum
And breathe

Sometimes,
I get so angry, I want
to tear open my skin.

Who needs anger management
when you can give yourself
a bloodletting instead?

I want to annotate my wrists
with the names of every person
who ever hurt me--
part the Red Sea with steel.

And I'm pretty sure a phlebotomy
is the closest I'll ever get to a lobotomy
(or an exorcism).

My trauma (my fury) is a toddler
throwing a tantrum in the middle
of the dairy aisle in the supermarket.

I pluck this child--
feral and snivelling--
from my veins and throw
her over my shoulder.

I don't know where her screaming ends
and where mine begins.

Sometimes, I think all she really wants
is a hug.

If little me comes to me
running and asking for help,
I know that I will hold her near
carry her, run faster away from hell
and tell her, "for you I would do anything"