I was okay for so long
I should've known it would go wrong

I never understood life.

Well, who cares –

Life never understood me either.

I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.

Laying on the beach
alone in the dark,
only with the stars
and the sound of the waves.

Sitting on the edge,
just where the tide could touch my toes
but doesn’t.

There’s sand in my hair
but I don’t mind-
it’s warm against my back.

I feel everything
and nothing
all at once,
staring at the moon
as if she’s looking back.

And when the cold water
hits my skin,
I know what she means
and I feel content enough
to leave.