That was before you
wanted
to do anything with us.

That was before I
trusted
you.

That was before I
trusted
anyone.

That was before I
trusted
myself.

That was when I
only trusted
the glow of my laptop in an empty room.

Don’t want to be
Anyone but me
Right now
I hate this
Never have I before
And I hope I never will again

Habits I hate
And hopes I can’t give up on
Never-ending cycles
Again and again

I only write when
my eyes blur the words I haven’t written
my hands can barely hold up a pen
the mirror shows someone who isn’t me,
when I’m hiding—locked in the bathroom
or fold myself into bed
only then do the words come.

I wish I could write
about moments I feel light—
seeing my cousins
for the first time in months,
waving at my friends
with too much excitement
but no shame in my smile.

When I walk alone
and it doesn’t feel like something’s missing,
when Lordofon or Froukje
fills my tears on full volume,
I pass a stroller,
a baby laughing at nothing
and I hope they will never
learn how heavy joy can be.

And obviously all the times—
joking with my sister
until we can’t breathe,
messaging my grandma
just to hear her thoughts,
sitting with mom and dad,
not needing to say a word.

When you see someone crying,
You should help.

You saw her cry,
You didn’t help.

But I was bowling my eyes out,
And she was barely sniffling.

You've got,
brown eyes like the devils liquor-
burn me slow, and i'll drink it quicker
I'll bare my throat, i'll meet your dare

So take it-
my guilt, my breath, my spine and silent prayers,
I'll burn for you, raw and loud
A sinner begging to be proud

I'd drink the devils liquor anytime with you

All this jewellery,
What for can it be?

Earrings you got at birth,
What are they worth?
They are with you
Always

Exchanging friendship bracelets,
The expectations it sets.
Best friends
Forever

Necklaces from family,
Might not know what you see.
They’re still there for you
Truly

Engagement and wedding rings,
More than beautiful things.
Boyfriends, girlfriends—lives entwine,
Becoming husbands, wives in time.

Another pointless, quiet fight.
Another message: “Yeah, you’re right”
Another text reading “goodnight”
Typing out “sleep tight”
as my phone screen turns to white.

I don’t turn off the music,
I do start to panic.

Everything reminds me of us,
The way you think I overuse “we” and “us”
turns to one more thing we used to discuss.
The way you tell me not to fuss
taught me minus and minus equals plus.

You never thought I had it right.
But I still hope you sleep tight.