my love was sugar
in your tea but you preferred it black
it never stayed hot very long  
you left it on the burner regardless

my love was a mess
in your home I was scattered shoes and broken glass
I asked for time to plan out my escape
but you held the door open for me

my love wore white instead of red
it did not hold hands or smoke cigarettes
I stayed about the surface for most of our time
because I was scared of not doing it right

my love was an open home
empty hallways for strangers to rome
a place to lay their head or put up their feet
it was a soup kitchen for those who were hungry


and I starved myself to keep them full

I'm stuck inside myself
I got scared and called for help
but a year of pushing friends away
left me yelling to nobody
I missed all of my exits and now
the road looks unclear before me
I've forgotten what I learned in driving lessons
and I keep seeing signs of you and me

I'm stuck inside myself
waited too long to ask for help
a year of deviating healing
and speeding down roads I carved out of skin
I should have shed months ago,
how will I know?
What does healing look like?
This intrapersonal fight has fogged my eyesight,
and the roads are snowy now since it's winter again,
I fear I won't ever win,
this intrapersonal warfare has left me on the field,
wounded and silent, afraid to reach out,
I fear I might not ever know what it's like to heal

a letter in messy script
a script with too few hits
a hit with too much smoke
a smoke with too few drags
a drag with too much hope
a hope with too few moves
a move with too much step
a step with too few directions
a direction with too much detail
a detail with too few truths
a truth with too much love
a love with too few touches
a touch with too much hand
a hand with too few shakes
a shake with too much promise
a promise with too few pinkies
a pinkie with too much trust
a trust with too few people
a person with too much love
a love with too few words
a word that never made it past a letter
a letter that told it all
everything, that never got sent

*******,
so angry I could collapse on the floor
but I swore this year I would stop
passing out when I feel like lashing out
so *******
for nailing my feet to the tile floor
and turning on the sink on your way out the door,
I am drowning in your mess
and have to swim with wounds on my feet
so *******
for doing this while telling me you love me
and pouring salt on open cuts
and making sure you had enough air to breathe
while I struggle to make ends meet
so *******
for doing this to me and
for draining me of the energy that it takes
to collect myself and hold it in and not scream
*******

build a bridge
so others can walk to you
and you won't drown no more
in waters that swallowed you before
so others may reach out their hands
and so that they may save themselves
build a bridge so you find help
no one can heal you
if they are tired from swimming upstream to

I remember a year ago
like it was last night
and I was searching our empty fridge
for anything to fill the void I could
barely identify
I worked out for hours
and negated progress with
entire boxes of granola bars
and laying in bed for days
man, I remember like it was yesterday
but I forgot how much, in that time
I have changed

A year ago I begged for a reason to stay
Today, I create it every day
I talk to God in new and scary ways
A year ago, fear plagued my mind,
Today, I value time
for what it brings me in the form of healing
though it does not always look like so,
but, oh,
how I have changed

A year ago, my tank was empty and I was jaded
today, I fuel my body and am thankful
that with each choice I make from sunrise to set,
I can mold my life and make myself the best,

or better than I was a year ago, at least

rejoice in wine
that you sweat out
while singing songs
out of tune with best friends
on unusually warm February nights
rejoice in the feeling of feeling alright
for once in a while
rejoice in laughter
that hurts after an hour
but you're finally smiling
about how much you love your friends
rejoice in solace
that you find in the strangest places
like the floor of your old dorm room
or the bottom of a bottle of moscato
you don't remember finishing but have videos of
rejoice in love
because you don't need a single other person
in bed, that way, to feel the same glow in your soul
rejoice in knowing that you're okay
rejoice in that concert hall when you lost it all
in your favorite song
you realized there you hadn't quite lost everything yet
rejoice in knowing what you've got left,
and love it

I listen to new bands
that sound the same but
sing different words
so I know I'm still hearing
what I want to, just in different ways
I still need that security,
I need to feel safe
but I can't do that when I picture you listening with me
so I listen to new bands
that won't make it big
because they sound like everyone else
and anyone who listens feels the same
they only want familiarity and to feel safe

if the first real heartbreak is the worst
does that mean that the first love will always be
the one worth hurting over?
will they never be better?
will I love him forever?

I still try to replicate
that tingle in my skin
I got each and every time we'd kiss
and how I never, ever felt it with another
and now I'm scared I simply can't
and that you ****** the magic right out of my lips
and that every man now will live in a shadow
of something that no longer exists
and it scares me, still
after all this time,
to want you back
to call you mine