failing and flailing thru this life grasping for your hand but i can’t find it in the dark even though it is clearly right in front of me and you’re waiting and waiting for me to interlace my fingers with yours so that you can keep my head above water for me because it seems that you don’t want me to drown afterall perhaps because you still want to put me back together but how can you even do that when you don’t know where i’ve hidden all the glass and bloody words that used to be my heart you’re collecting them all in a pretty vase but i can never be whole again because somethings will forever be lost some girls will forever be broken and shredded
You give me a glimmer of hope
And I do not believe
It is false hope
Your hands linger when they shouldn’t
Where they shouldn’t
If you’re a little drunk
You’re more honest than you intend
You said you believe in me
I believe you – you were drunk
I thought about hugging you
And you hugged me
As if you knew I was thinking it
We speak without saying words at all
And I close my eyes
And you’re right – I know
You tell me everything
When anyone looking in
Would’ve thought you were silent
i’m the original grass
that wasn’t green enough
and i don’t understand
why you’re singing
one of my favorite songs
but you’re still sleeping
away from home
two nights a week
i’m not the one
and you’re never in love
i’m never honest
and she’ll never be enough
every other line
is a lie
and i’m still broken
still in love
with a backpack full
waiting for you
and i to lay them down
My heart beats faster
Than it should
As i lay next to you
And i notice a change in your breath
It’s ’cause we both know we want more
Than just laying next to each other
And we know we’ll give in
To a certain point
Suddenly your lips are nearly touching
And you make no move to move away
And i ask you if you wish you could kiss me
You take a few nervous breaths
Before you answer-
Yes and more (i’m paraphrasing)
And then we let everything happen
Except the kiss
And everything else you said
Like all the little things you do
How you ask me how i’m doing
How you encourage me to get out of bed
How you let me know when you’ll be home
How you celebrate my small wins
Though those are even few and far between
i lose more than i win
And i forget to see
Your micro love
And all that you do for me
True love isn’t in the grand gestures
It’s in the everyday ones
And in the way you softly say,
it’s like we don’t even speak the same
like we’re strangers
who’ve always known each other
but pretend not to
because being true
telling the truth
we would risk getting hurt
i used to be able to take that risk with
used to let you in
but maybe i did it for the wrong reason
i thought if i let you in
that you would do the same for me
how do i let go
of wanting you to love me?
And suddenly I loved you.
I know I should have always,
I just didn’t though.
You loved me too soon
and I loved you too late.
If only we could have met in the middle.
And suddenly we are finding out what we mean
to each other.
I can’t hear the truth because it will break
I hold on too tight;
teach me to let go.
i am twenty years old. the year is two thousand and nine. i am wearing a white dress that i designed and sewed myself. i am not happy with the dress. i don’t like how it fits and i don’t like the way i look in it. i am frustrated and angry that one person is not at my wedding. instead of being glad about all the people who are here to celebrate my special day, i fixate on just one person. i should have had my eyes fixed on my groom. i do not notice the way he looks at me. for him i am the only person that exists today. later i will see it in photographs- the way he looked at me on that day. by the time i see it we are both beginning to believe it is too late.
i am twenty four years old. the year is two thousand and fourteen. i can’t breathe. i didn’t see this coming. i did not believe this would happen. R is breaking up with me. he has fallen in love with someone else. this can’t be real. this isn’t happening. i can’t breathe. please don’t leave me.
i am twenty four years old. the year is two thousand and fourteen. i am single for the first time in my adult life. i am trying to put the pieces of my life back together and move forward. i want to be someone who my sons can be proud of. i have decided that i want to be a teacher. i have enrolled in college classes for the first time in over three years. i believe i can do this. i will not fail this time, this is what i tell myself.
i am twenty seven years old. the year is two thousand and sixteen. R is single and has an extra bedroom. he has asked me if i would like to move in, as his roommate. we’ve started having sex again; we are friends with benefits. it sounds like a good plan.
i am twenty eight years old. the year is two thousand and seventeen. i have just gotten my first paying job of my adult life. it is at a yarn store. i am excited about the possibilities of this. it is a step in the right direction. a stepping stone.
i am fourteen years old. the year is two thousand and four. my mom is away visiting my grandpa. he has cancer. he will not live much longer. i am feeling so alone. i miss my mom. i have already decided not to return to public school this year. it is August. i am sitting alone on the porch. there are no walls; it has not become my bedroom yet. i see a small piece of broken plastic in the dirt. it is sharp. i am sharp; if anyone gets close to me my anger and sadness will cut them. i pick the plastic up. i press it into my flesh, near my knee. i drag it against my skin again and again. i am bleeding. i lie when asked what happened. scraped myself on something. it was an accident.
i am seventeen years old. the year is two thousand and seven. my parents drove me to Burbank. we carried my things up to my third floor dormitory. at some point my dad cries. he does not want me to leave home. he has held on too tightly and i’ve been afraid to leave because i don’t want to break his heart. but at the same time i am angry at him because i want to be allowed to spread my wings and fly. i want to stop being his emotional crutch.
i am eighteen years old. the year is two thousand and eight. i meet a boy. he is really sweet. i tell myself i do not want a boyfriend. i want to be just friends with this boy. in a week’s time he will be my boyfriend.
Do you ever wonder what would have happened
if we could have made it work?
If we really had tried everything?
We gave up too soon, I know that.
And I still wonder if it will be me and you
I have hope.
And I’ll always carry that hope,
in my backpack full of bricks,
that I’ll save because they’re ours
to build on.
I’m strong enough to carry more,
more than these bricks and more than my hope;
tell me everything and I’ll carry your tears
next to your joy.
I hope you wonder about me,
I hope you carry hope.
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