you were raised with a silver spoon placed in your mouth
you had it ripped out and thrown around, so you learned to grab it and fight to get it no matter the amount of thrashing you needed to do to get it
I was raised to lick the scraps of love off the sharp side of a knife
you love parts of me
fractions that you pick and choose but never the entire spoonful
I am cough syrup on your silver spoon
sweet but an underlying bitterness that you can't stand
I wish you loved me in my entirety

I want to tell you about my day

I want to tell you that I went to see my old house and I felt this sickening nostalgia as my mom and I drove down the road that my dad left us on
the same road we chased after him on 13 some years ago

I want to tell you that today I looked in the mirror and didn't even recognize my reflection, all I saw was this girl looking back at me that I didn't even recognize, nor liked

I want to tell you that I miss you but I'm starting to miss myself more, how I feel like you're attempting to control the tings that composed my very being before I met you

I want to tell you that I don't think you understand life or people as much as you think you do
I don't think you care about me the same way that you used to

I want to tell you that I feel like I'm rotting and wasting away but don't have the strength anymore to get up and do anything about it

I want to tell you that I don't think I'm as extroverted as I used to be, being around people for longer than a few hours makes me physically exhausted enough to faint

I want to tell you that love is not control, love is attending a thousand funerals of who someone used to be and loving each person they become without trying to change that

I want to tell you I made the front page of a poetry website I've been writing on for 5 years and I'm proud of myself for creating something I think is worthwhile even if you don't

I want to read you my poetry but I know you well enough to know you won't appreciate the thoughts I have, writing them off as some heavy self destructive woman who's too emotional sometimes or not emotional enough at others

I want to read you my poetry and have you truly listen

one by one i’ll pull my teeth from my mouth
i am so full of rage
i want to be soft despite that
i’ll put them in a jar
to remind myself
harsh words come from a harsh mouth
without my teeth
maybe i’ll be softer

your voice is my lullaby
your body my blanket
your hands on my thighs
i’m a hopeless romantic

i’m tossing and turning
i lay here alone
hoping and praying
that you’ll maybe phone

this twin size bed
i happen to call my own
feels so much more empty
this space deemed the unknown

late at night
alone in my bed
i no longer use my strength to hold myself together
instead i hold your shirt.