under my skin

Her eyes were clouded, distant. Almost as if she really were there again, five, six years old, her spine curving, curling into herself, trying to become nothing. The girl who once hurt her now haunted her, always speaking to her from some dark corner in her mind. If she could forget, if she could let go, even she herself knew she might see the sunlight in her smile, the springtime that lived within her soul.

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eyes on me

I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this.
To only exist when your eyes are on me. Only when your hands are on me.
I hate this feeling, like I become invisible the moment you walk out my front door.
I want more than this. I want you to want me always. Not just two days a week.
I need more than that. I need to know that I’m more than my body, more than what you can touch.
I can’t keep feeling this insignificant, when you’re all I can think about. You’re so much more than you make me feel.
You’re frustration. You’re laughter and the feeling of being high. You’re a drunk mind. You’re a pure heart, but a wounded one.
You’re on my mind 24/7 but I barely cross yours for a minute of the day. I wish you wanted me more than that. I really want more.

empty space

I would write more, write often if I weren’t so afraid it might become a sad eulogy for my hand. The black words bleed from my pen as I try to reason out through objective thought why my words no longer hold feelings.

My soul wandered from its spot in my heart into some cold sanctuary between my ears, trapped in thought with no color.

When only bland, lifeless words rise from my mind, what is left to be written? Surely no one wishes to hear of this obsession of the scribe and her pathetic inability to do what she yearns to.

She is afraid that her words might be trapped for so long, they might resurface one day in the form of a suicide note.

attention

wondering why i’d agreed to this in the first place,
your eyes sweeping across my naked skin, a blush,
goosebumps teasing me, a warmth in my veins, heart-
deep, why would i agree to a love that isn’t returned?
your eyes meeting mine, an eerie cold, keeping me out,
keeping you from feeling my heart trying to embrace yours,
why would i agree to this?

Hello, I love you

Natural

Meet my nephew, best friend, and whole world, Elli. He’s turning 2 in December, and he’s already the size of a 3-year-old. I love him more than anything in the world. He said my name for the first time, well he really said Hewwey but I’ll take it. His eyes light up when he sees me, he gets this great big smile and reaches out for me. That’s what I want more than anything in this life. For someone to love that much, it’s just amazing.

Something changes when we grow up. Our hearts become harder, we don’t let ourselves love the way we used to as children. That’s why it’s so hard for me to see my nieces and nephews love the way they do, knowing something is bound to change. Someday, someone is going to break their hearts.

I imagine something like this is the reason the man I love is the way he is. His actions and words don’t match. He loves me, he loves me not. Everyone is hurting inside, he told me. Everyone has a reason they act the way they do. My heart was already broken when he said that, I was broken. We’re still together, somehow. We hurt together, but I think we’re slowly healing together. That’s all we can hope for.

let’s not fall in love

don’t fall in love with me, he says
as though the way his breath runs across my skin like his fingers,
the way his body naturally leans into mine, our breath
lingering between our lips, one
as though it says anything other than
i love you, don’t fall
in love with him, it’s difficult not to when
my heart beats quicker when i hear his beneath his skin, my head
on his chest when he pulls me close, the warmth
of his body melting the coldness in mine, a sigh
i’m content being close, content soaking in the
quasi-love that he gives me,
don’t fall in love with me baby,
i’m not ready to love