I gave food the power in my life
and watch it completely destroy me.

“Does it pick me apart piece by piece?
Or does it eat me
in perfectly portioned bits?
Does it scarf me down?
Or does it daintily
pluck at me with lush lips?
Does it stay awake at night?
Or does it just
eat me completely carefree?”

I wonder why I gave it all this thought
and why I let it turn into such an assault.

Today I tried to run away
I did not have success,
The road was long,
The day too hot,
I fear I look a mess.
My long hair quite in disarray
My clothing, loose and free
People cry and point and try
to run away from me.

Compliments were like mace;
asides that I never took well.
Never mind awkward first dates,
they were like living in hell.

I’m lucky I found gentle men
who took steps quietly,
that put up with my self-disdain.
and just as equally,
suffered in the rain.

But soon, they grew predictably helpless
and decided to abruptly end things.
Surrendering an on-going protest
they knew they would never win.

I’m sorry I brought my selfish war
into our cozy love stuff.
That I never cherished our affair
and tried to call your bluff,
as you firmly said farewell.

But if truth be told, and I’m being brutally honest…
I think I finally figured out the part that was the hardest
that I should be kind to myself regardless.

if
a star fell
to the earth
each time
i thought of You,

the sky
would be
void of light.

As a woman, I have always
felt the pressure to procreate.
And if I succeed,
well, I better be the best mother I can be.
But what if, I’m scared
Of the pressures of social media.
That the moms that populate the page
will always be better than me.
That I may spread
my infected genes.
That maybe, right now, the world is
just a scary place to be.
But what if, I decide
to do things for me?
Does that deserve
to be guilty?

Sometimes, I like to forget
you were ever me.
That the girl in the mirror
ceased to even exist.

Her skeletons,
she kept cautiously hidden.
But her heartbreak
was thrown to the world to be seen.

Sometimes, I feel so sorry
for the girl in those memories.
How lonely
it must have been.

I wonder how many parties
I chose to miss?
How many boys did I
never get the chance to kiss?
The friends I could have made;
the connections I left delayed.

All because I was scared...
because being alone felt safer instead.