Mustering,
rallying,
courage,
strength.
Praying.
Hoping.
Today is better than the last.
In truth,
my barrel is overflowing,
water gushing,
like blood from a stab wound.

I’ve been trying to heal on my own,
trying to heal from the night you forced yourself into me.
The night I turned on myself,
lost who I was.
My body, a foreign and distant being.
She wasn’t mine anymore, you had ripped her from my grasp,
refusing to let go.
As much as I try, I’ll never have her fully back.

When I saw you
I fell in love
I know i always fall too quickly but
to hold you,
to kiss you,
to see you,
melts my pain away.
I forget for those minutes I’m broken,
I forget I’m hurting.
I forget that this won’t last forever.
Tomorrow, someone new will feel this way.

I am allowed to take up space!
I proclaim confidently
hoping repeating it will coerce her,
my friend who spurs my celery meals.
Hair crafted by the media,
her piercing eyes gripping control.
       -I’m not me anymore

I’m tired,
tired of trying to fit into a world,
that doesn’t seem to want me in it.
I promise you I’m trying.
Yet, everyday when I wake up it seems to get harder and harder.
My body is giving up,
It was slow at first and now it’s all at once,
like drizzling that is now a hurricane.
My lungs refuse to breathe,
Arms refuse to reach for the bottles that supposedly keep me sane,
Heart refuses to accept love,
I’m tired.

more than lonely
alone
none of the *******-Stephanie- left-me-on-read-alone
the i haven’t felt touch in 2 weeks alone
the not even my abusive ex wants me alone
the drugs feel like a warm hug alone
the i forgot the smell of my mother’s perfume alone.

The beginning,
Like watching a movie,
Perfectly intertwined hearts.

During:
Clinging to you,
Begging you not to leave,
Abandon me like the others,
Is this what love looks like?

After you:
I’m in pieces on the kitchen floor.
My heart gushing like my wrist,
I guess forever meant something different to you.

You almost always plan for your first kiss, you almost never plan for your last.

what does love look like the therapist asks
one week after the breakup
and i’m not sure how to answer her question
except for the fact that i thought love
looked so much like you

that’s when it hit me
and i realized how naive i had been
to place an idea so beautiful on the image of a person
as if anybody on this entire earth
could encompass all love represented
as if this emotion seven billion people tremble for
would look like a five foot eleven
medium-sized brown-skinned guy
who likes eating frozen pizza for breakfast

what does love look like the therapist asks again
this time interrupting my thoughts midsentence
and at this point i’m about to get up
and walk right out the door
except i paid too much money for this hour
so instead i take a piercing look at her
the way you look at someone
when you’re about to hand it to them
lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation
eyes digging deeply into theirs
searching for all the weak spots
they have hidden somewhere
hair being tucked behind the ears
as if you have to physically prepare for a conversation
on the philosophies or rather disappointments
of what love looks like

well i tell her
i don’t think love is him anymore
if love was him
he would be here wouldn’t he
if he was the one for me
wouldn’t he be the one sitting across from me
if love was him it would have been simple
i don’t think love is him anymore i repeat
i think love never was
i think i just wanted something
was ready to give myself to something
i believed was bigger than myself
and when i saw someone
who probably fit the part
i made it very much my intention
to make him my counterpart

and i lost myself to him
he took and he took
wrapped me in the word special
until i was so convinced he had eyes only to see me
hands only to feel me
a body only to be with me
oh how he emptied me

how does that make you feel
interrupts the therapist
well i said
it kind of makes me feel like ****

maybe we’re looking at it wrong
we think it’s something to search for out there
something meant to crash into us
on our way out of an elevator
or slip into our chair at a cafe somewhere
appear at the end of an aisle at the bookstore
looking the right amount of **** and intellectual
but i think love starts here
everything else is just desire and projection
of all our wants needs and fantasies
but those externalities could never work out
if we didn’t turn inward and learn
how to love ourselves in order to love other people

love does not look like a person
love is our actions
love is giving all we can
even if it’s just the bigger slice of cake
love is understanding
we have the power to hurt one another
but we are going to do everything in our power
to make sure we don’t
love is figuring out all the kind sweetness we deserve
and when someone shows up
saying they will provide it as you do
but their actions seem to break you
rather than build you
love is knowing who to choose
           -Rupi Kaur

I knew I loved you before you knew my name,
I knew I loved you when you made fun of me for shaking your hand,
I knew I loved you when my mouth felt cold without yours,
I knew I loved you when I thought about you more than drugs,
loving the right person at the wrong time is an injustice I’ll never forgive the universe for.