that question,
aimed at someone else,
split me open.
half of these are about you.
but half of them — it’s all me.
the one who isn’t pretty.
the one who isn’t well.
i thought i knew
what the book meant.
i only wanted to hold
something that was mine.
but it grew teeth,
and turned into
a launch party,
a press release,
my words living
in other people’s minds.
all this weight,
kept hidden,
only allowing
my closest friends
to get a glimpse
at the truth behind the veil,
turned into
a doorway i couldn’t close.
have you not read her poetry?
i don’t want to be
polished anymore.
so read it.
it’s all me.
the way it always
should have been.
this one is about a conversation yesterday, that made me realise that the walls between my worlds are thinner than I thought. the fact that my community is starting to glimpse this raw, stripped, layered and honest side... there is a strange exposure in that. like people reading my diary but with my permission, except it still feels… naked.
