Untitled 9

I fell for you looking into the eye of your hurricane 

The force of your storm surrounds me 

With a promise of destruction 

But I treasure the moment of calm

That I found in all your madness

To My Old House and My Ex

Comfort
isn't always a good thing.
It can be like laying in bed
when you need to rise.

You were a warm bath
of oils and bubbles and salts
soothing my aching body.

It won't stay warm forever

The water cooled.
I may not have noticed at first,
but the soreness slowly set in.

It was time to go.

Pearls

there are pearls in heart where others left sand.

all of the years spent desperately fighting the coarseness inside me, 

yet when you plucked me up from the murky water

all you can think about is prying me open

to finally take my lovely pearls away.

I'm open

I'm exposed

I'm vulnerable 

the strand is long enough to choke me

swear to me you'll wear them and never give them back

Cartoon Hearts

With my head rested on your chest I hear your steady pulse.
It's not like any I've heard, and for a moment I think about how it sounds almost like a caricature of a heartbeat. Something we know is meant to be a heart but isn't quite the same.

I look up to you wondering if you're aware that you have a 90's style cartoon heart and you look down at me saying, "I hope you always keep that look in your eyes when you stare at me." I don't know how I'm looking at you but I have the same hope.


People wear me down and exhaust me. You seem to exhaust me a little less.


I dread finding moments of comfort outside of solitude. I separate myself from my feeling of bodily inadequacy, losing myself in thought. In those moments I get to live blissfully unaware of how I could be perceived by others. Always when I'm with a partner, though, the moment comes when they turn to me and I can feel myself stiffen as the words pour out of their mouth, "You look beautiful, do you know that?"

It doesn't feel like a compliment. It feels like a rock in my chest. A reminder that no matter how I conquer my mind, I'll always be subject to how others view me. To them my body and brain are and always will be intertwined. I never feel comfortable and safe.

But laying next to you, lost in a conversation and laughing, you give me that same look. Internally I recoil, waiting for the blow. "I love how dorky you are" is what comes out. I can't remember the last time someone complimented me for something other than how they find me aesthetically pleasing.


I'm can't explain what this means to me, but I'm so relieved when you take my hand. Whether we're sitting across from each other at the restaurant or laying side by side in bed, fingers intertwined softly,  I know its not the same.

untitled 8

I'm nervous.

We sit on the couch with our legs intertwined
and you catch me studying your features
because you were nothing more than a stranger last week

But you're still a stranger now
and I want to do anything to change that
so I can justify how comforting I find you
or how easily you opened me up

Anxiety fills me up instead
when I see the the little cracks
tracing along our edges

We want the future
but we've never had a proper foundation to stand on

comforts

lean into me
softly
tell me you care

intertwined fingers
and bodies

warmth on a cold night
a calm to my storm
all with a swift brush of hair from my face.

Hand to heart
to throat
mouth to neck

I've found comfort in your arms
and hope in your smile