Poetry: My Decision is

He was resolute and she knew that she was unable to change his mind and knowing that fact alone caused a spear of ice to pierce her heart and make her tremble. Her mind couldn’t decide what to do, her body couldn’t choose how to react. She may have remained steady but on the inside she was unraveling and all she could think about was how to self harm. Not that she necessarily wanted to harm herself but she did not know how to deal with this. He had closed his mind, her heart ached in its uncertainty in whether it should break or close. She had never felt so alone as she did, standing there listening to him declare his course of action. She wanted to vomit.

Poetry: Virginity

She didn’t know what to expect but that wasn’t it.

Nothing lasts forever.

Poetry: Sorry

Sorry heart, for facing all that hurt. Sorry head, I thought I could change the world. Sorry tears, you shouldn’t need a reason to fall. Sorry soul, you were destroyed. Sorry brain, you couldn’t think of the right thing to say. All I have to do now is face the consequences.

Poetry: Mood Swings

He didn’t understand that high maintenance didn’t mean clingy. Even though I was. It didn’t mean constant crying. Even though I did. And it didn’t mean fastidious even though I am.

How could he have known that my ability to accept simple facts of reality would change depending on my disposition? That sometimes I’m confident and strong and can take on the world but there would also be times when I would question my worthiness to even know his name. When some days I can clean house in three hours flat, accomplishing in bounds the feats that even my imagination lacks when I’m low?

I’m not bipolar. I suffer no mental instability. But the call of my hormones is too strong to resist and I bend as they see fit, making me a puppet on a string, battered and broken, functioning as I’m moved but with no capabilities of my own.

Would he leave me if he knew? He protests that he will never leave me and that I’m his forever. But he also doesn’t know… doesn’t understand. This is how weak I am.

Poetry: When in Love

For a good man, a woman will drop all standards.
But for the right man, she wouldn’t have to.

For a good woman, a man will work for her favor.
But for the right woman, he wouldn’t need to.

Poetry: Together

We knew our love was meant to be when we realized that alone we were just two broken people but together our faults were cancelled and our fears released. That’s what we mean when we say, ‘you complete me’.

Poetry: Why do You Love Me?

I ask when upset, mad, happy, or content.
I ask with fear or excitement in nervousness.
I ask to determine my worth or just because I’m curious.
I ask at night, midday, morning, in the evening, or while cooking.
I ask as we kiss, before, and after.
I ask nearly every day.

Why do you love me?

The answer always seems to change, day to day.

Oh, darling of mine… it’s how I know you really love me.