This will scare you.
It will overwhelm your senses,
taking you down an unmet path.
You will meet yourself in fury, in desperation,
in inexplicable shades of who you were
before the becoming.
But you will blossom before your eyes.
Your heart shall shed its soft skin
and grow layers of strength
you did not know you could carry.
This, darling, is falling in love.
Ricocheting across its plains.
Diving into it headfirst and learning,
with each passing wave,
how to dance with the current.
It will break you into pieces
before it teaches you to be whole.
Isn’t it ironic,
how the most
cause the most
Making them love you
is not your life’s purpose.
It never was.
They must adapt to fit your edges.
They must evolve as you evolve.
Do not drain yourself to replenish others.
You pluck my weaknesses
and use them as daggers,
throwing one insecurity after another at me,
not caring to see if you hit your target.
You forget that I have strengths
that far outshine the pressure
you try to place me under.
Watch me rise higher, higher still,
until you become nothing more
than a vague memory.
‘Why do you
return to him?’
‘To wound myself.
To make myself feel better.’
If you cannot bear
to witness my unraveling
upon these pages,
perhaps it is best
you never look back at all.
Make this easier.
Tell me you notice how the silence
has become filthy, awkward, resentful.
Your skin feels foreign.
You are bringing out a side of me
that I never thought could be unsure of you.
I am sorry for letting the days slip through my grasp
and fall to an uncertain floor,
a surface that both of us may not have the space
to stand on together anymore.
There was once a foundation here,
but it eroded before we knew it needed to be mended.