I told myself you will learn
That my past told stories
It was Just the source of my beginning
I told myself you will never accept love that isn’t complete
But somehow I found myself once again unable to leave a place I knew so well
The walls were freshly painted but it was still the same walls
The furniture smelled different but looked the same
the ground was still uneven and balance was impossible
He was still him
The past sometimes likes to find itself in the present.
Sometimes I sit still
In that stillness I find every piece of me and greet it
I’ve heard that’s how self love begins.
“Do you still look for him when you’re with me?”
I wonder how do I split a lie out of the truth?
How do I pretend that my eyes didn’t just whisper his name?
How do I convince my tongue to say I only want you?
The most beautiful thing about being heartbroken is realizing that despite everything you’ll always be okay.
The thought of you clings to my skin like coconut oil. These memories run their fingers down my body hoping I never escape them.
Sometimes I leave in the middle of a poem
I let my mind ferment
Bask in my heart
Glide with silence
And my return becomes a new arrival
I think about the patience the sun has with the earth. The way she moves and makes sure every inch of the earth receives a little bit of sunlight. I strive to have that kind of patience. To leave a little light in everyone I meet and everything I touch.