You call my name
with a tongue sharpened by hope,
your smile refusing to fade
leaving traces wherever you wander.

I collapse to my knees,
the weight of my shoulders
crushing the marrow of me,
yet you remain,
hands steady,
offering a tomorrow
I never dared to touch.

You hold a mirror to my soul,
banishing the shadows
that fasten themselves
to every doubt I carry.
You never ask for anything
but the fragile currency of my time.

How could your birth carve
such a fault line through me?
I am nothing but scars,
echoes of yesterday
repeated until they bleed.

How can I accept your smile,
when I see myself as waste,
a husk,
a ruin?

Yet still,
you gather my yesterdays
and pledge them back to me,
remade,
as though even broken things
can be worthy of light.

If it’s only a joke why does it sting?

If it’s only a joke why do you make it personal?

A joke shouldn’t be something used as a hateful thing.

Jokes are supposed to be something we can look back on and laugh at;

Not be ashamed because we were made insecure by a few words.

Make it make sense

Jokes are supposed to be lighthearted and something for a laugh.

Not to make people feel ashamed.

“Oh! Remember when you started-“
It’s not a joke.

We’re not laughing.

But you are.

It’s not a joke so stop saying it after an insult because it’s not a joke.

and what did i become in a moment—
not an entity i ever wanted to be.
and don’t you understand
i just don’t
have it in myself anymore
to mean nothing
to those that mean everything to me.
i became someone i hate
i wait outside, on your porch,
trying to trap light through my fingers.
i wish no one had to love,
had to tiptoe around themselves,
had to transform into what they never wanted.
i wish i never desired
to be meaningful to others.
the world would be much easier.
i don’t feel understood,
i just feel empty—
like everyone else is living but
i cannot
fit the oxygen mask
around my mouth in time.
in a cruel world,
i made myself the cruelest
and how do i reconcile with that?

what else can i give,
offer up until there is just a
shadow left?
i don’t know who to be anymore
and i just need to be guided,
hand in hand.
i’m young and the world
has left me lost
and i am nothing of
what i’ve always
wanted to be.
i am nothing;
i lose that feeling until it is
back on my porch,
trying to trap light through its fingers
and i always let it in.

Two weeks ago I met the most perfect boy.
I decided to shoot my shot,
and I made my ball in.
Im not ready to truly say I love him,
but I already know I do.
I know because his cologne lingers in my hair,
I know because I can ask him anything without feeling ashamed.
I know because I don't even feel jealous.
From the day that I saw him,
I knew we had a connection.
From the day that I saw him,
I knew something had begun.

Maybe my heart
was born too small
for the love
it carries...

That's why it
shares it
just to
give itself
breathing
space