People always ask, why did you stay?
Not, why did she hurt you?
Almost as if they thought it was my fault I got hurt. See the only thing I thought I learned was that love was supposed to hurt.
That’s why my self-love is some how equal to my self-worth, myself hurt. The reason why when my partner goes to hold me, I flinch first. And I’m so tired of having to explain it’s nothing they did.
How it’s my fault that trauma rewired my brain to fear every unprepared touch, every kiss.. do you know what it’s like to retract in fear when my love goes to kiss me? It breaks my heart in two.
It was never supposed to be this way but it will be this way until I get you out of the way.
Erase you from my mind, find my home in this body that I felt like I’d been evicted from.
One day I won’t write about you, one day I won’t try to cut your fingerprints out of my skin, one day I’ll be me again.
I now know what it’s like to bite tongues that aren’t my own
Leaving fresh wounds,
Tasting their blood
Is better than my own
I clung to her clothes yet when she came there’d never be anyone home
I knew what it was like,
Maybe that’s why
I thought I deserved to feel what they did
To feel chased with no intention of slowing down
The feeling of freedom,
While passing my hand through her hair
I was never truly there
But it was nice to feel wanted without wanting
I let him get close, kept him near
In case I stumbled too far I wanted someone to lend an ear
This time it was me who didn’t say hi,
I didn’t say bye either
I just watched as she tried to reach through my barriers
This was something I watched you do and I was envious of the inaccessibility
Now I’m inaccessible
I’m not sure if this is what I wanted
But in the end, it’s better than being forgotten
I crave love.
The thing about cravings
is that I deliberately have taught myself not to self-indulge.
Some twisted form of self-inflicted pain.
When sweet words seep through their lips, I run like a forgotten faucet.
I run until I’ve run out of room, spilled over counters. I ruin anything within my grasp, which is why I avoided you.
I didn’t want to soak your love-filled bedsheets with my ink like words. I didn’t want your memory of me to be a dark stain that you couldn’t get out, no matter how many times you try to scrub it.
I’m tired of being the story behind new bedsheets
which is why I can’t love you,