To the girl that I think about every second of every day. To the woman that swarms my fantasies and dreams. To the girl who made me see that what I was before isn’t who I can be and who taught me who I can and will be, which during the process I fell madly in love with:
Every time I look at my phone and see no messages, every time I check my email and see no reply, every time I see your not on messenger, or you don’t acknowledge me when you are, I die a little more inside. But the sad part is: I’ll never give up. Because even though you may be slowly killing me, one second talking to you is the only reason I’m still alive.
I just wish you would see that no other man will ever give you their heart the way I have given you mine…
And you don’t even know…
They were nearly paper thin. They were painted a warm crimson with metallic gold rims. They were where forks rested, where grandma’s favorite sweet potato pie had been when it was deemed delicious by aunts and uncles and toddler cousins. They were stacked, sometimes places beside nametags, sometimes in her purse and sometimes used for the bride and groom. They were the embodiment of her mother, her grandmother, years and memories.
When my mom inherited them, no one deemed her marble mousse cake delicious, when it was. They did not rest beside nametags. My father threw them when he was angry. One by one, I watched them disappear. They became chips. They became broken. They became everything the rest of us had always been.
My sister would cry when she was a baby, even into her toddler years, when she heard the loud crash of the plates against the wall. They crying would turn into a screaming match between my parents. It was the same dialogue every time, about how my mom was a bad parent because her child was crying. I wanted to shake them both. I wanted to shake her and ask why she never says anything back. I wanted to knock my father’s teeth out for making my mom cry.
She would sweep the pieces of china after putting my sister to sleep. My dad would grab his whiskey and say he’s going to say Joe. I was 7 and knew that Joe was Sara, and sometimes Alison. I watched my mom’s auburn hair glow against the sunlight that poured in from our barred windows. I watched her delicate fingers curl around the dustpan, always noticing that she did not wear a ring around her left ring finger like the other women did. Sometimes I would crouch beside her and touch her ocean of hair, wishing mine would be as a magnificent as her one day, and tell her not to cry.
I watched the same light pour over her hair, now dusted with gray. 13 years had passed since my father left her. They ceiling fan spun quietly and Celine Dion hummed from a small radio my sister had brought by. A vase of roses from my aunt had a card that read “get well soon” and beside it, a small pastry rested on the last of my mother’s china plates. I stroked her hair and left the room.
I walked into my mother’s room a week later, bustling with excitement to tell her about my new job, to find an empty hospital bed. On her nightstand table, the plate remained, with a small scrawled note that read “Love you, this is yours,” and I felt myself crumbling, becoming all the chips and broken pieces of the plates my father had thrown.
The ceiling fan spun quietly.
Hanging onto every sliver of you Every taste a little sweeter And I’m reaching out for The last bits of you to find And fearing I’m going to drown you Because I been told I’m a tsunami So I hold back when I can And try not to express everything I’ll whisper out my feelings Suppressed as best I can But maybe I’m just starving And really you’re the saving meal The one thing that carries me through But in so doing I’m still Afraid of devouring you The insatiable desires I contain May make you shrivel and die And then you would hate me too For sucking the life from you Because I’m probably Rouge And you know I can’t touch Without siphoning away life Or so I’ve been told I make a man feel as though I am a well that can never be filled I take and don’t return So I should be set on fire to burn And in my longings yearn because I don’t give enough respect And a man has every right to leave me Begging for his love and some Withheld from me, so I search in songs Stories and shows, my only friends And for so long he wondered at me For being worthless watching tv But I had died And I am still olny barely alive An empty skin with a broken soul A skeleton of a woman I fight I fight for life every day Because I’m not a quitter I repeat myself in that But it’s true I’ll fight for love Because without it I die
Thoughts at 2:06 A.M.
I don’t know what’s become of me. I drink and drink to ease the pain. There’s so many thoughts that are constantly running through my mind. I’m here and there but seem to be nowhere. Have you ever loved someone so much but realized that you lost them and now there’s nothing you can do. I had a love. I had a love that was real and pure and I lost it all. She was perfect for me. She knew what to do to make me smile. She knew what to do to make me get butterflies every time we spoke. I miss her, every piece of her, I miss. I miss her kiss. I miss her hug. I miss her voice as she whispered in my ear that she loved me. She’s happy. She’s in love. But it isn’t with me. I wish I could change things. I wish I could change time to make her realize that I always loved her. I think I’m going mad. I think I’m going crazy just to feel the warmth of her embrace. There are people who enter your life and once they enter it, you’re never the same again. I’m a changed person because of her. I’m a different person because of her. She made me a better person. My smile was nothing until I met her. I felt alive when I had her and now that she’s gone I feel empty and almost as if I’m not breathing. She has her life and she created a new life because I forced her to. I told her there could never be an us. When she told me she loved me I chose to run away and deny any type of feelings I had for her. I’m lost and confused and no matter what I try to do; I simply can’t get her out of my mind. I could be surrounded by happiness and it all means nothing because I don’t have her. I miss her kisses, I miss her hands, I miss the look in her eyes, I miss waking up to her. If I could tell her right now, if I had a chance to change everything, to make my life complete I’d tell her I love her and that she’s all that I’ve ever needed or wanted. But it’s too late and now there’s nothing I can do but sit here and have another drink and realize that I lost the love of my life. The love of my life that I’ll never be able to replace.
I sped up to see if you’d talk to me
you looked at me
but I can’t really blame you because I looked like I was in a bad mood cause I kept looking at the ground.
I saw you look at me slightly though.
“if she doesn’t say “i like you too” or refuses to accept your compliments or money, & instead she shakes her head or rolls her eyes and gives you a little smile and says “you’re an idiot”
Then you are one lucky guy.”
funny thing happened last night. Im a dude so navel to knee is what i have to cover according to Islam. So i was about to take a webcam selfie without a shirt(i dont like wearing clothes at home) andd as i got up the computer wire disconnected.
Allah was like No.
for the record, you still make me sad
It’s so strange how you and I basically switched places. You were never good at being good. This new face on you… you’re a stranger now. As I probably am, as well. I’m the good girl gone bad, and you’re the saint. So be it.
Some days I feel like I will forever be alone. I think things are going well and then…. I get brought back to reality. I get crushed under the weight of the realization that the girls I fall for never want me. someday maybe I will be allowed to be happy