Did I figure it out?
I loved him more than I loved myself.
Everything I did was for him, because of him. Everything I did was to make him happy and what he wanted because I thought,
if he was happy, I’d be happy.
But that wasn’t the case, what made him happy didn’t make me happy. But I kept trying endlessly and didn’t understand,
but was more confused as to why we both weren’t happy together rather than why I, myself, wasn’t happy.

I don’t write to get called good
I write to be understood
Do you understand?

I don’t write for petty praise
That would be a waste of my days
My poems are my own extended hand

I just want people to see
What it’s like to be me
And who I really am

Though my poems are called “good”
I am still misunderstood
When will somebody understand?

I write a thousand words to shape in your mind what I am feeling. I read a thousand words to understand how you are feeling. But for lack of knowledge I know not what is your meaning! For a thousand words would mere touch the surface when millions of feelings lay below the surface. What must we do to understand? What must I do to take your hand, and clasped in mine, take you to a place of comfort. Where at last you see a thousand words are not all there is to see.

Why he broke my light.
Why she holds my love.
Why they invade my dreams
Both day and night.

How
can you say
I make everything
complicated?

You
didn't even want
to try
to understand.

Why
do you refuse
to even try
to understand me?

I
wanted to talk,
explain
my point of view.

You
say you want
nothing
to do with my faith.

You
do not think
it important
to support my identity.

      Still
      I care
      about
      you.

You
said I
wouldn't care
if you died.

Not once.
Not twice.
But thrice.

How
can you say
these things to
your own daughter?

Once in fury.
Twice I have some doubt.
Thrice I know.
           You just struck out.

I gave All of my vulnerability away
For you, to you
Exposed the dirt of my soul
Not understood.
Kept on
Waiting for hope,

in despair.

Walking along a nearly empty road
I glimpse another, on the opposite side
Now, I know not how this does bode,
As I attempt to match them stride for stride
Wondering what could be happening in their mind
“Tell me, please.”
I would say in an attempt to find
Who this stranger truly is, put me at ease
And not merely familiarize myself with their exterior
But their whole person.

- Jay M
April 10th, 2020

An angel came to me in a dream once
An angel with a thousand eyes
And it glowed like a thousand suns
A pulsating heat
A fluctuating fire that burned everything in reach
When it spoke
A wave had washed over my body
Drenching me
Drowning me in a feeling I did not understand
It had asked me what my name was
And when I answered
It disappeared.