please tell me im not as forgettable as your silence is making me feel
i met you and the wounds of human nature began to heal. this is where i learn to love myself.
my mother never hated me but that does not mean she loved me. somewhere between her upbringing and mine, there was a misunderstanding - that childhood was something to be endured. maybe her mother, too, confused the act of war with tenderness.
the voices scream and kick and I beg for a moment of quiet. they do not give in. with every action, every word, every thought, I am at the mercy of my mind. I yearn for silence. it does not find me.
we all think we might be terrible people. we only admit this before asking someone to love us. it is a kind of undressing.
the clock hit midnight and I turned the age I always dreamt of being. I say sorry to a younger me. I hope she will forgive the person I've become.
the sun has long since set and my mother is sitting at her table. she will not sit at mine.
take off your strength as you enter the room. hang it up to dry. pour your worries onto the kitchen table and watch as i consume them. it is okay. i am here.
the stars light up the night and i wonder if you are staring at them too. i wonder if you talk to them and tell them your worries. i wonder if they listen.
in another universe i would bake you a cake and nothing bad would ever happen to us
i met you and now
i am kind to myself in my sleep
how do you explain that?