When I write poetry
I aspire to not change the way
Someone thinks
But to inspire them to think
For there is beauty in diversity
Diversity in thought is admirable
Regardless of the thought itself

To hate yourself
Is to love the world
To love yourself
Is to hate the world

Empty
Devoid of any human experience
Regarding the beauty
In sensual physicality with another soul
One that deeply revers me
To the point of supernatural ecstasy
Found in the quick secretive glances from across a room
To the beautiful throes of passion
Which is only a black dark hole in my brain
Since it does not present itself as a reality
My reality
Yet
So here I lay
At 1:26am on a Tuesday night
During my spring break
As a sophomore in college
Listening to ******* by pink sweat$
On repeat in the dark
Writing poetry
As I feel the ache
Of never experiencing the sensual ache
Caused by the
Sounds
Looks
Touches
Of another
Of anyone other than my own *******
But one day
I’ll read to you
My love
All of my poems
Where I ache to be with my soulmate
Because I know you’re out there
It’s just not our time
Right now
In this moment
As I lay on my bed
Writing poems about missing you
And your touch
Which I know I’ll love
So
Until then
[insert name of soulmate]

regarding addiction
daniel amen once said
the behavior is not the problem
it is the expression of the problem
that is not to say that the behavior is not a problem
because it possesses the ability to be one
but it is not the problem
the problem is what compelled the individual
to use the behavior as a means of coping
the behavior is an expression
of a human's attempt to find resolution within
it is the diseased leaves
that have manifested from a rotting root
yet we still like to blame and look at the leaves in isolation
we try to treat the leaves
when the root is what must be tended to
but the leaves are easily noticed
the root is not
it is buried behind weeds and soil
it requires more effort and thought

eyes closed
palms gently resting against my thighs
deep inhale
slow exhale
repeat
this is all i know
that will be with me in the future
as i close my eyes
and feel my chest expand and retract
as i become aware of the places on my body
that connect and ground me with the earth
i find peace
in knowing that this will be the same
decades down the road
i'll always have my constant breathing to come back to
the stimulus
darkness
and the sensations
will be the same ones that i will experience
once i graduate
once i get my first job
once i kiss the love of my life
once i give birth and hold my child
once i experience the grief and loss of my parents
i will have my breathing to come back to
i will have the soothing movement
of my chest
to remind me of my constants in life

There are not many statements
That can apply to all humans
But
The desire to be unconditionally
Loved
Accepted
To have your existence be genuinely acknowledged
The desire to be enough
Is at the core of every human

We look to others from our own places
Of insecurity and rejection
Thinking that they have it all
That they feel unconditionally loved
Accepted
Genuinely acknowledged
Enough
Forgetting that they too
Are most likely acting behind a
Perfect facade concocted by society
Searching for this unconditional love
For acceptance
The the feeling of being enough
But they project the version
That the world says is enough
Is worthy to be loved
But that love is conditional

We are taught
You need to become something or someone to deserve love
This love won’t satisfy anyone in the long run
It is conditional

If you sat down with the people you admire
The people that you think have it all
That if you were them you wouldn’t have anything to complain about
You’d feel enough
You’d feel loved and accepted
If you sat down with them
And had an honest conversation
About each person’s insecurities
You’d realize that everyone is broken
Trying to search for unconditional love
Acceptance
Acknowledgment
Yet we look towards one another
Forgetting that those that appear to have those things in fact don’t
And are also searching
Just like you

And as we lay together
Face to face
Nothing but silence and eye contact
I start to linger on all of your other ****** features
That compete for my attention
I get lost in the way your tongue quickly moves against your bottom lip
Which soon lifts at its corners
To form a smile that I hope is sensual
Only to be redirected in my gaze
When your fingertips delicately lift my chin
Eyes up here
You say gently with amusement in yours
I blush and try to hide my face in my pillow for getting caught
But you just pull me closer to your chest
I love how you let me be in my emotions
Knowing when to intervene
And when to let them take their course
No one has done that before
And as I muster up the courage to lift my head and ask you a question I’ve been dying to ask
You murmur against my ear
What is it
I then boldly look into your eyes
Wait a few seconds
Soaking in the beauty that is uniquely you
And say on an exhale
I want to touch you
I want to examine your beauty slowly in silence
You attempt to suppress your shock
But nod and place my hand on your chest
Have at it
Just tell me what to do
I grab at the soft cotton in my hand and begin to pull it upwards
Which you help me with
I then push on your shoulders
Until you fall back onto the bed
I take my time
Etching into memory the slopes and curves of your torso and arms
I look into your eyes and blush
Mesmerized in the reverence I see reflected towards me
I look at the way your chest rises and falls
In tune to my heart rate that’s also gradually speeding up
This is what I’ve always wanted
These moments of connection with no words
A lover that understands me
And yet I find myself pinching my arm
To ensure that I’m not dreaming
And that you won’t be an image that is gone once I open my eyes

How much
Are you willing to do
For lust

Would you follow them into their black hole disguised as an enticing mystery

Endure suffering
Inflict emotional slashes that rip and tear
Through the flesh of your mind and body

Would you shatter yourself
Pick up the pieces of you
That they need
Only to be left incomplete
Because you’re used to being the fixer
And never the one fixed

How far would you go
Where would you set your limits
They’re not as black and white
As one might believe

How much
Are you willing to do
For lust
Or maybe
I’m the one confused
Maybe
I’ve mistaken love for lust
Due to an incapability of believing in love
Maybe
Just maybe  
But still
How far is one willing to go
For love
Or lust

the body
is a living  moving time capsule
your scars carry stories
whether that be from adventurous moments in childhood
a burn from attempting to cook
or the pain of feeling empty inside
and just wanting to feel or escape something

your scars carry stories
they also depict the love that your body has for you
they depict survival
they are a reminder that you are here
they are a reminder that you deserve to be here
they carry memories
the good
the bad
all are essential
because the combination of all your experiences
are what make you
you

I remember your touch as abraiseive
A means to an end
Never an end in itself

It made me feel like I needed to hurry up
That my body was meant to be rushed
For the expense of others
It made me accept a touch that was mechanical
Devoid of a tenderness a 6 y/o deserves
To come to understand and experience
From the hands of their mother

It made me engrain and learn to accept that my body was a means to an end
Never an end in itself

I’m doing the tough work now
I’m trying to discover and unlearn and learn again but differently than the last

I don't even know what the right words are to introduce myself after so long of not having any communication with you, my older sister. I guess I'll get right to it. Fair warning, read this when you're in an okay enough place to hear it.

I consider myself an empathetic, understanding person. I err on the side of being too forgiving or being too accommodating. I yearn for relationship and repair. However, I am now beyond a place of understanding you, which is worse than the feelings I had towards our parents. I no longer wish to understand your perspective nor hold space for it. The distance and events in your life have reflected enough information for me to keep you at a distance. How foolish is it to think I would've easily accepted any hint of conversation from you in these past 18 months. 18 months...enough time for you to have gotten pregnant and just found out her gender.

Your bitterness and ego (this is how I chose to perceive it) are what broke me.

I left scared and hurt by the events that transpired between mom and I the day I left. I knew we weren't on good terms and yet I still contacted you. I extended an olive branch and you ******* burnt it. Your lack of response and absence was felt painfully and hurt deeply. It inflicted additional wounds I didn't think I'd have to tend to in an already tumultuous time.

I used to cry and wonder what I did so bad to deserve no response from you. If you were so worried about me leaving early, why leave me alone completely? I no longer cry over it anymore. Instead, I'm hurt by the fact that if roles were reversed, Marta, I would've called you in an instance. I wouldn't have left my younger sister to fend for herself when she offered an invitation to communicate as she fled our parents home with nothing but her car and clothes. ****, me getting pregnant would've been enough for me to want to reach out to have you be part of my life. You didn't.

I despise you; I hate you. You've surprisingly hurt me the most out of the entire family during this time because I expected more from you than our parents, but I guess I gauged you wrong. I expected more from you as a woman as well. Your internalized misogyny is not one I thought would be so apparent in your treatment, attitude, and behavior you've shown eddy vs. me. You're not that different from mom in that regard. That's how I feel, at least.

I am done being the "bigger person" when it comes to emotional conflicts that rise amongst us. You were the one that would say emotionally ****** up things to me I still remember and yet I was expected to initiate the repairs because my desire to be in good relationship with you was strong. It's gone now.

You learned to despise Roman's silent treatments early on in your marriage and yet you extended that same cold and harsh treatment towards me.

Plea your concerns to God because I don't wish to hear them anytime in the near future. I've plead mine for eighteen months in silence with God hoping to hear from you. I'm done now.

This is the last time you'll ever hear anything from me regarding my feelings towards our relationship or what is left of it anyway. My anger and hurt is a reflection of my desperate plea for love or grace or any ounce of ******* compassion from this family and unexpectedly you.

Physical beauty such as one’s looks
Is truly short term-gratification
Internal beauty such as one’s
Mind or character
Is truly long-term gratification

In order to share myself with someone
It implies that I know myself
So before I go into a relationship
I must first know myself
I must first know how to date myself
How I respond
When I’m excited
When I’m mad
When I’m sad
What my love language is
What my apology language is
What my remedy is when I’m down
How to label my emotions
And engage with them
So that I can accurately communicate
Them with another

Why
Why is everything falling apart
Come back
I feel as though I’m scrambling
To piece together the control
I thought I had
This quarantine has forced me
To look in the mirror
Because all other directions
I tried to escape to look
Have lost their charm
I no longer find the thrill
In binge watching movies
Scrolling through social media
Reading romance books
Working out
I feel like everything is slipping
And I can’t control the natural path of the fall
That’s disregarding my defense mechanisms
And now I am forced
To look in the mirror
And truly look
At what I’ve become
Who I’ve been afraid of confronting
And explore why it’s taken me this long
To finally
Come back home to myself

I love the human hands
They have so much beauty in them
And often get overlooked
But not this time because
As I slowly lower my hand to your chest
I’m aware of the 15,000 sensory neurons
That light up as my fingertips brush against your goosebumps
That quickly break out on your skin
Your quick intake of breath causes me to lift my gaze towards your dilated pupils
Which is drowned in lust
I focus back on my hand
Which begins the journey of descending towards your stomach
But as I near your happy trails
Eager to touch
You grasp my hand in yours
And lift it to your mouth for a light kiss
As you flirtatiously laugh
While shaking your head at me
I then begin to take both of my hands
And mold them to your jawline
Once my hands slide along your neck
Feeling your pulse beneath my fingertips
Making their way to your collarbone
I lift my right leg over your hip
Until I’m straddling you
You quickly grasp my hips tightly
With both of your hands
Warning in your eyes
While mine carry mischief as I bite my lip
You shift me forward so I’m no longer aligned with you but your belly button
But in doing so
You let out a restrained moan
Which spurs me on
Easy baby
You whimper
And my hands begin their new journey
Which lights up my mind
As I explore
The beauty that is you
In silence
In eye contact
In touch

I was almost always told how I felt
It's one of the reasons why I struggle to identify how I truly feel now
Or decide what I want
Lack of connection to self
As some psychologists would say

Mom my shoes feel too tight
No they're not they're fine
Oh okay

Dad I'm full; I don't want anymore food
No you're not, finish everything on the plate
Oh okay

I was told how I felt
I learned to ignore my body's communication
And look to the other
To determine how I felt
Or looked
Or what I wanted

I'm learning to unlearn this
In the minuscule activities to the larger life decisions

So please
Be patient if it takes me time to either speak up or share how I feel

I love the mystery
In knowing that I haven’t met
The love of my life
Yet
In knowing that all of it awaits me
In being able to explore the what ifs
Exploring the unknown memories
I’m excited
To explore each stage
And simply exist in each moment
Without wanting more
Knowing that it will come
Eventually
I’m excited for the early stages
The rush of excitement in seeing them
Without knowing their name
The blushing
The smiling
The subtle flirting
The “thumping heart rates
But trying to appear calm” moments
I’m excited for the friendship stages
The jokes
The “hang outs” not called dates
The adventures
The unspoken knowledge
That we both like each other but still
Try to pretend that we’re just friends
The nervousness
The wondering if the other actually likes you
Or if you’re making it all up in your head
The playful flirting that is questionable to people claiming to be “just friends”
The early dating stages
The butterflies in asking them out
The excitement in getting ready
For the first real date
The awkward moments here and there
The innocent firsts
First time holding hands
First kiss
First cuddle session
The later
More intimate stages of dating
Moving towards marriage and the honeymoon
Watching life play out as you live together
Attempt to spice up date nights
Moving to children
The pride in his eyes as you carry and grow his baby within you
The excitement in being parents
To the product of your love
Moving to actual parenthood
Sneaking alone time
Watching your spouse take care of your children
Watching him swear off all boys with violence when he stares into his daughter’s eyes
Moving to when your children all leave
And your left alone with the love of your life
Just like in the beginning
To when you both look wrinkly
Move a little slower
And sit in silence more often
To when you mourn the loss of your spouse
Knowing that one of you
Would die first
And the other will be left
Alone
Only for a while
Until you reunite again
This is the beauty
Of a romantic relationship
That awaits
Who knew
That the boy you saw across the room
The one you just hit your friend for
Just so you could point him out to her
Would be the boy
That would become someone you knew
More than just a good looking stranger
But someone who knew your name
Who becomes your best friend
Who would create beautiful memories
Who would be the cause of many laughs
And tears
Who would be the guy that gave you
Butterflies from asking you out
Who would be your first kiss
First everything
Who would be the one who marries you
And has children with you
Who knew
All of that
And more
Will come from the stranger across the room
This is the mystery
That I keep replaying in my head
Excited for all of the stages in my life
Except maybe
For the last one

It’s as if
Every word
Every phrase
Every thought
That escapes your lips
Is something that can be captured
And worthy to frame
Worthy to be quoted
Worthy to be printed and shared in books

Conflicted
Where do we go now
I do not wish to initiate the conversation
Nor do you
What will the ending be
Will we still have fond love for one another
Will you hate me
Is this another reinforced lesson for me
My honesty causes abandonment
Of those closest to me

After years of internal emotional torment
I’ve finally realized
That my issue
Was never about being perfect
It was about appearing to be perfect
Was never about if I was good
It was about if I was good enough

I am proud of the woman you are right now in this moment of your life. Your light, your shadow, the contradictions you so boldly engage in introspective dialogue. The way youre figuring out your moral compass. I love the way you laugh before you cry. I love that you allow yourself to feel in such colorful saturation of each emotion. I’m not sure how to do that. To be able to stay with your emotions in an authentic and non-destructive way. I admire that you are doing the tough and lonely inner work that I feel I do not have the courage nor bravery to do myself. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you and continue to hurt you. I’m sorry I’ve shown you what it’s like to cry the most painful of tears. I’m sorry I do not know any language other than shame and abuse. I’m sorry that you are healing the parts of myself that I never got to grieve which I then gave you genetically. You are so strong, diana. Never forget that, even when I scream at you that you are weak as you cry before me begging me to stop talking. I admire your ability to be defiant in your NOs and the way you push back against oppressive systems that are embedded in others and myself. I’m sorry that you cry alone in your room and find more safety in there than in my arms. These hands do not know how to hold your pain and to offer gentle comfort. Please forgive me. I’m trying.

-Love Mom, a messy and beautiful and complicated human being who has experienced horrendous abuse by those who were also messy and beautiful and complicated human beings

“Think about what an amazing human being you are to love yourself enough after having come from no love to walk away from people who abuse you; set yourself free.”

“You’re right; it’s real; it’s happening; do something about it.”

- Dr. Sherrie Campbell