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.
Feet grounded so deep I am sinking into everything I’ve ever wanted to be.
-how the earth catches us
How does it feel to know the loneliness living in your stomach is what lead you to the entrance in between her legs?
Does the emptiness crawl up to your lips and meet hers halfway?
Does her hair drape down like curtains in attempt to hide her shame?
Do you think she’s as insecure as you because her body is the only language she knows how to speak?
Does she wonder how you touch the bones on her back and think of how my spine curved in your favorite place?
Do her words hold your ego or do they bring softness to the places inside you that need it most?
Does her pale skin remind you of the cold past your father left behind?
Do you wonder why my soul and body keep you begging for more?
Does she know she tastes like regret and bitter wine?
Do you wonder how you became who you promised you would never be?
While waiting for tomorrow
I stepped into a poem
I wondered how has my poetry begun to emulate reality
Not realizing my life is the greatest poem I will ever write.