you must be.

you must be time.
your hands strike at midnight.
instead of allowing me a sweet slumber.
you make home within my thoughts.
a malicious mind reader.
you call me. you ask of me.
only and only when i have convinced myself that i am free of you.
you must be the embodiment of a danger sign.
pretending not to know.
of the bruises you created beneath my skin.
and all i know is the feeling of your fingerprints.
tracing the trail of a scar deep within.
proving my foolishness time and time again.
must you be everything that pains me.

my pieces.

on a pedestal, you put me.
a precious antique framed, you cherished me.
my scars are the colours that paint me, you finally noticed.
my cracks and rough edges showed, you started thinking.
am i to love the pieces that make her whole, you questioned.

so on a step leveled with the ground, you left me.
an antique with no purpose, you resented me.
paintings you say are not meant to be coloured with scars, i am exiled from your life.
cracks and rough edges you say are meant to be worn by buildings, i do not measure up to your standards.

i will not stand here today and apologize.
yes, i am coloured with scars and open wounds.
i am a painting that has lived through wars and now peace.
i wear my cracks and rough edges to show how your words tried but never succeeded to break me.
and i wear them with an S on my chest.
for super girl, super woman, for every super being that fell seven times but got up eight times.

know that my pieces are made of every thing that you are not.
they make me whole with droppings of awkward, weird, clumsy and love.
know i am my own pedestal, my own precious antique.
so you stand there today, an embodiment of shallow beauty.
and wonder how you lost me, how you will never find me again.

my notebook, my salvation.

a hunger for words cuts away at the corners of my notebook.
for ink to be spilled on page upon page.
for the edges to be endlessly laced with blue stains.
pitiful is the sight of a hand trembling over a blank space.
to my surprise to not write of you is to obliterate all chances of spilled ink from existence.
so a day becomes a week, becomes a month, becomes a year.

but here i am trying to hold steady a hand you let go of.
to write of a crack in the dam holding back memories you nearly flooded me with.
allow me a moment to fill the void with a naive mixture of new memories, new places, new feelings.
allow them to look past the hint of sadness that has settled in my eyes.
to have ears that can’t hear the longing in my voice.
why must you make me beg for my words to be written.
my notebook a slave to your kingdom, your dictatorship.
and you watch closely as my pages waste away like the leaves of autumn.

but watch closely come winter, come spring.
watch closely as my ink becomes a rebel.
my words, my lines, my pages autographed with my salvation.
watch closely my notebook healing faster than the sound of your name.
watch closely while you waste away in the distance of a land burning in flames.
so forgive me, i don’t want forgiveness on this day.
while i walk, run, sprint the other way.
for the burning red dancing between us is freedom calling for my ink, my words, my name.

as always.

as always.
i hear you leaving.
before i lift my head up.
watch you take unwanted steps.
you walk backwards.
thinking the sight of me.
crying tears of goodbye.
will give you strength.
then why did you break.
retracing your steps.
towards me.
towards us.
towards a future unknown.
holding me in your arms.
i look into your eyes.
certainty dancing.
in the shadows of uncertainty.
you kiss me anyway.
hand in my hair.
hand around me.
hands around your neck.
don’t leave me.
we beg.
lips meet.
don’t go.
we cry.
hearts break.
and love grows.
as always.
you leave and i stay.
you cry and i break.
harboring a love.
meant to ruin.
two hearts for the price of one.
i stay.
stay for you. for us.
you love.
love me anyway.
kiss me.
kiss me again and again.
and again.
your heart.
laid bare on lips.
on a soul.
on a body meant for only you.
i love you.
i love you too.

time again.

it’s time again.
for me to run away.
from…
your love.
the one…
that’s always reserved for me.
selfishly, I’m scared again.
selflessly, you love me anyway.

love me anyway he says.
he doesn’t know.
love…
alters its form.
knowing I’m the source.

our perspective.

to the world.
our love.
is an incomplete thought.
a story that ends in the middle of a sentence.
tragedy disguised as forever.

to us.
our love.
lives in the waves and shores of our minds.
a never ending story.
cannot be measured with time.

perspective is essential to our love.
and ours is the one we favour.
together we break.
the rules of life, time and the world.

too young.

they tell me.
i’m too young.
to know the pain i know.
i tell them.
pain…
like love.
does not discriminate.
they ask me.
where.
does my pain stem from.
i tell them.
from a heartbreak.
i wouldn’t wish on my enemy.

 

a silent cry.

i miss you.
selfishly and angrily.
i miss you.
with a messy mind and a wounded pride.
i miss you.
causing an ugly scene and a brutal scream.
it is not simple.
nor a beautiful sight.
it is complicated.
and a silent cry.
and i.
i miss you still.

my do i wish.

my do i wish..
to never love again.
to never feel loss again.
my do i feel..
the hurt with every glimpse of our history.
the flaming sword of anguish piercing through me.
though i would never trade a moment.
of that tragic love.
of that great mess.
my do i wish..
to never feel the pain of a great love.
the pain of a tragic mess.

he surrendered.

and she scared him.
he didn’t know why.
didn’t know how.
an uneducated heart.
taking an unexpected fall.
she ruined him.
showing him the same world.
knowing he can’t recognize it.
he surrendered his will to her.
his great wall at his feet.
she scared him.
seeing right through him.
he knew then.
she will educate his heart.
meet him down the line.
fall with him.
explore the same world.
and maybe let him scare her.