Mélissa: Favorites

Jun 13 Mélissa

Julie

I want to spend summer with you
to learn how your touch feels
and to know the origin of your scars

I want to make you smile
to wipe your tears
and be the only thing you miss

I want to watch all your favorite movies on repeat
to listen to your heartbeat
and to play with your hair

Jun 13 Mélissa

RSD

Jun 13 Mélissa

Liana

RSD

Every little rejection
Every "I can't"
"Maybe"
Feels like I opened my chest
Giving them access to my heart
And they took it out
Twisted it
And put it back in bleeding

Rejection sensitive dysphoria is something I've always struggled with, even as a little kid. I know rationally that they don't hate me and aren't truly rejecting me, but I just feel like absolute **** every time. I'm not diagnosed with anything, but it makes me feel better about myself to think it's something medical and not just me ******* and being dramatic. Also, it's quite precise to what I feel sometimes so I call it that. Idk but yeah. Love you all ❤️❤️❤️

Jun 13 Mélissa

Salt Lady

Jun 13 Mélissa

morallygray

Salt Lady

Salt Shaker Lady
shake it with me
your umbrella the color of daisies
head pointed down so sagely
felt your taste through tears as a baby

Adult now
realize your expression was hidden
because it was the deepest frown
In every cabinet yet no one knows how
a lady of mystery sitting in sweat on my brow

Salt Salt Salt
i need it with all
yet too much and my heart will stall

Salt Shaker Lady
I do see you

I wrote this about the Morton Salt lady

Jun 13 Mélissa

Refrain

Jun 13 Mélissa

Mia

Refrain

I wonder,
wander,
falter.

Back — forth.

Now I’m
backed in the corner.
Silence is comfortable
to move in.

For the fourth time?

Back — forth.

Running,
cowering,
to cover my back.

But love seems to burst
forth from my gut.

Back — forth.

Singing,
humming—
it’s quiet.

But it’s sweet,
and now you’re back.

And I can’t seem
to bring the strength forth.

Back — forth.

A cycle too strong to quit.

Jun 13 Mélissa

Please.

Jun 13 Mélissa

Mia

Please.

You said it.
This is “what’s best.”
So please kiss my forehead
and put me to rest.
Leave the book
halfway unread,
on a whim.

Through vast, subconscious seas,
beyond the volatile storms of sand,
I feel you thinking of me.
Extend a charitable hand.

Tell me kindly,
we will never be
again.

Call it mercy.