I cry often and hard at the moment,
From the soul
Anxiety is rampant and how I wish it wouldn’t control me
I’m too heavy for the people I want to bring joy
But he listens and he cares and he knows the outlines of the darkness inside of me
He kissed my hands and my head
When I called him beautiful
He almost cried

It’s not right, right now. And the rest is up to God
Oh, God.
In Him I’ll trust.
When the time is right, He the Lord will make it happen
But for now, Him first I need. To seek with all my heart.
To find when He is all I have, that He is all I need and more, much more.
To know and to love. To be right with God.
Everything else can wait. Will wait.
His hands. My story.
Redemption? I pray so.
Is he an Isaac? I pray so.

I’m with a boy who will not or cannot love me, or say he loves me
If we accept the love we think we deserve, and I chose and choose him-
It seems fitting
The lack of love I deserve

The words that should soothe, save, heal
Would end.
The confirmation he suspected
That he cannot
So she holds it in
When she feels like she could burst, spill over
She would give him everything
But her everything is not what he wants
So,
The words remain unspoken and wane

He told her when he said it to her, he would say it every morning and night.
It was if, not when

And eventually, she didn’t crave it
Didn’t need it, didn’t want it
Let it mean nothing
Never said it.

"Do you think you will fall in love with me?"
"Sometimes I do"
And I stay for a sometimes.

He let her tell him she loved him
He says he doesn’t know what love is
But he knows that he loved her
That he doesn’t me
And that she tainted this thing he doesn't know for him
And now he, for me

This beautiful boy asleep in my arms
Committing his face to memory
By touch
So that if I were blind and he was in a line
I would know it was he who was mine
So I watch and wish and wait
For him to wake,
For us to break

I confuse lust for love
Mistranslating tight holds and neck kisses as signs he chose me
That he wants me, not just wants me
My lust, i just want your love

The pain of being reused in the sheets she chose for him
In the hoodie she wore first
Haunted by a ghost who heard the declarations of love he would never make to me
Being the girl who follows in the shadow she cast
Where what she didn’t give him rendered him unable to accept what I could

Why do we feel? How do I stop?

Why do we not take away the pain
But then those in pain cannot
And pain for purpose to warn
But what if the harm is only the pain itself
If what is bad is only that it hurts?
It wouldn’t matter that he doesn’t love me if it didn’t hurt
I don't know what love is anymore,
So I drink
Pretty alcoholism for the ache

Strength? Or masochism
Sacrifice? Or emptiness