with every word, i roar.
you make me vulnerable,
i can’t even function like a normal human being when you’re around.
it’s out of my control,
my eyes draw circles around your lips and i have to look away because i forget how long i’ve been staring.
you make my mind mush
and that’s okay.
i don’t know what to tell you,
only that you’ve been looking in the wrong places.
and when i want to give up,
i think of where i want to be.
i visualize victory and joy and peace
and
take a breath.
i want to be better.
i want more than this.
so i continue to amad,
and stand firm and still.
i’m not giving up this time,
no, not until i see the finish line.
i am at an age
where i am compelled to
seek
yet
you keep pulling me back
into these boring, repetitive
scenarios.
let go of me.
sometimes i blame myself
for your lack of interest in me.
how do you await heartbreak?
if the anticipation doesn’t cut through you,
his voice will.
being still makes me feel safe.
as if movement is enough to freshly shatter the broken pieces that have been healing.
it is when i must move
left
right
left
right,
that i fear i will slip
and fall.
it’s the fall that hurts,
bruises,
and scars.
if i stay still,
maybe i’ll save myself from it all,
or maybe fear has just convinced me that the place that i am in is
“safe and sound,”
but really,
i could be sitting on land waiting to crumble.
i don’t understand how some people
do not feel as deeply as i.
every infliction, fluctuation, nervous touch upon my heart,
seeps into my being and is circulated throughout my veins.
this is not what pathetic looks like.
this is not what weak looks like.
this is what a burning heart looks like
and how lungs filled with crisp, piercing air inhale
and then exhale.
this is life.
deep,
true,
horribly beautiful,
frightening and
raw life.
i am so alive.
sometimes i find myself wishing
my coffee was alcohol.
“i silently read
and
i silently write.”
what an internal juxtaposition.
in all that silence, there is a billowing cry.
can you hear it?
