Everyone loves to see my smile
so big, beautiful, infectious
magnetic and genuine
but the world can only see
all that I pretend to be.
It seems we all get caught up
in appearances, distanced from reality.
The real me is always an arms-length away.
And I like it that way.
I keep it that way.
Keeping you farther and farther
from my pain before I implode
with no more warning than my trembling lips and fingertips signing for help while they push you away,
crying for comfort but begging for space.
I fret you won’t understand
this brokenness as I lie in a broken mess
of tears and bleeding wrists inflicted from a sharp tongue,
and sharper voices in my mind cutting deeper into the wells of insecurity.
My own hands dig deeper into flesh searching my veins for happiness.
via Daily Prompt: Fret
Because the dopamine high I get while your soul dives into mine can only be matched by the way my heart flutters when you smile.
The way you smile and chinky eyes lit up my soul
something I still don’t understand,
but the way you held me
cared for me
like a princess fit for royalty.
That is where the love lies.
In the way you looked into my eyes and it felt like our heartbeats synchronized.
The beauty in its simplicity.
You saw me as all I ever wanted to be.
Now, I see myself twice as much for the both of us.
Make love to myself sweeter than you ever did
Caress my body more softly, more sweetly,
Sweet love, the erasure of insecurity.
It runs so deep, it radiates through my fingertips.
Safe, sacred, living energy.
“In our Western understanding of time we involve the correlative of distance. The past is away in that direction, the future in that, and the present is just here, where I happen to be. But we speak of the passage of time; times come and go, the day will come. We remain in place and observe the flow of time, just as we sit at the cinema and watch, fascinated, as images fly before our eyes. The plane of time is shattered; it is composed of moments, ad infinitum, in perpetual motion.”
N. Scott Momaday, “On Indian-White Relations: A Point of View”
They say it’s better to have loved and lost than not loved at all…
Well I’m calling bullshit on that one.
I don’t think it’s better to have given my all to someone who took it for granted
Only to desire me as long as his dick could stand for it.
Leaving me with a broken heart in my hands
Ripped from my sleeve
I bleed, for you.
I loved for you.
Sacrifice and lonely nights, but I loved.
And now am lost.