When I was Five,
My mother told me I was loved
Years later, she loved me with her fists
For I was the vessel for her to re-enact the scars left by her step father.

When I was Ten,
My Foster Father told me I was the son he never had
Years later, I was the son he never wanted
As my “Real” Family was weeds to be pulled from his garden.

When I was Fifteen,
My friends told me I was there for them.
Years later, they would all abandoned me in my time of need.
What a Gullible and Naïve teenager I was for thinking friendship was a two way street.  

When I was Twenty,
The love of my life, Told me that I was worthy of love
Years later, she would tell me that I was un-lovable
What a fool I was to over look my obvious character flaws.

So, I’m sorry for not having faith in us,
For doubting your intentions, endlessly questioning you
When you told me that you wanted to marry me because
I didn’t want it to wind up years later.

I think the sweetest intimacy
isn't the ******* behind your curtain when the sunlight fades
but when I unravel all of the pieces,
stuck to me for twenty years
when you witness the uninviting parts of me
and just as I begin to feel shame come over me
you whisper "Come here, your scars are my favorite part of you"
sometimes I still struggle to see my heart as more than a bruised and beaten burden beating in my chest
but you look at me like it's the first time your eyes have seen sunlight in years
I find my place in-between your arms, passing time with you

I act like I’m fine
I act like everything’s alright
I tell people I don’t feel a thing
I tell people I’m not hurting

Every day is the same
I put up a mask to cover the flame
Trying to keep up to this facade
I’m tired of having nothing to have

Should I let myself come out of the flame?
Show people my real face and name
Would they choose to stay,
When the shadow becomes the light?

In this world where I could trust no one
Would you hold my hand as I run?
Let’s figure out who we are together
Two people finding themselves, isn’t that better?

In this place where I hid,
You’re the person I wanna be alone with
You are the only thing that was ever real
Would you spend some years with me?

Stubborn and cross,
Gross, and seldom lost.
Thank you for holding my hand,
On New Years.
I guess it meant a lot to me.

You’re writings have been an inspiration,
Much so that I feel like I won’t have a dream of my own.
I would follow yours to the end of the earth though,
Because much like you I
I am awfully beautiful,
Stubborn, and cross
Gross, and mostly lost.