I’ve never known love
Grace, I showed
Intelligence, I possessed
Attention, I did not lack
With a man always at my back
Countless hearts, I used
Until they bruised
Meticulously, I dwindled men
......
I miss all the things.
the before things.
the untouched things.
the innocent things
that had no reason to fear the dark.
i miss the way i used to wake up
not scanning for danger
before my feet even hit the floor.
i miss how silence
......
I watched myself in the reflection of ashes,
a silhouette of everything I thought I was.
The person I used to be
naive, trusting, eager to give
smiled back,
a ghost of a life I no longer recognize.
I thought I was unbreakable,
but their words were hammers,
their silences were chisels,
......
What would thou think of me tying rope to the tree?
With every strike mine own sword stabs back at me.
Perhaps I will let mine enemy pierce me,
For I can go on no longer.
Each day I sharpen and shine my blade.
And each day in its reflection I see myself fade.
If only the Fades could snip mine tarnished thread
And leave me strewn among the field with the other soldiers lying dead.
I look to the heavens; may He guide me.
......
I have his eyes,
I have his hair,
I have his scars,
and I had his bruises
that I practiced covering
in the mirror.
When I see him in the mirror –
transfixed by eyes
that stop me from finding cover –
......
I am the echo of your wants,
a whisper you can’t chase.
And when you reach for me,
I’m gone—like smoke you can't erase.
I've got some tricks tucked up my sleeve.
I've become someone I hate.
If you're drawn to pain, come closer—
I’ll hand you all my weight.
......
Love always came, but never in my size.
Too big to hold, slipping through my fingers,
or too small, choking me in its seams.
I wore it anyway
patched-up apologies, sleeves too short to keep me warm,
frayed edges where promises unraveled.
I shopped for love in secondhand stores,
digging through racks of discarded affection,
trying on whispers that no longer fit their owners,
......
I watched myself in the reflection of ashes,
a silhouette of everything I thought I was.
The person I used to be
naive, trusting, eager to give
smiled back,
a ghost of a life I no longer recognize.
I thought I was unbreakable,
but their words were hammers,
their silences were chisels,
......
I miss all the things.
the before things.
the untouched things.
the innocent things
that had no reason to fear the dark.
i miss the way i used to wake up
not scanning for danger
before my feet even hit the floor.
i miss how silence
......
think of it as a decaying process
of willfully turning myself into something bended ;
bloodshot eyes , skin rotten — snuffed . .
i am disordered
disoriented ,
from traumas scrawled around the book .
mother does not care
or will she , for once , when her daughter
......