Overstressed and Underworked

stay is a sensitive word. we wear who stayed and who left in our skin forever.

Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.

Sometimes I don’t even know if I’m extremely happy or extremely sad. It happens a lot when I think of you.

When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too.

Most of my life has been spent trying to shrink myself. Trying to become smaller. Quieter. Less sensitive. Less opinionated. Less needy. Less me. Because I didn’t want to be a burden. I didn’t want to be too much or push people away. I wanted people to like me. I wanted to be cared for and valued. I wanted to be wanted. So for years, I sacrificed myself for the sake of making other people happy. And for years, I suffered. But I’m tired of suffering, and I’m done shrinking. It’s not my job to change who I am in order to become someone else’s idea of a worthwhile human being. I am worthwhile. Not because other people think I am, but because I exist, and therefore I matter. My thoughts matter. My feelings matter. My voice matters. And with or without anyone’s permission or approval, I will continue to be who I am and speak my truth. Even if it makes people angry. Even if it makes them uncomfortable. Even if they choose to leave. I refuse to shrink. I choose to take up space. I choose to honour my feelings. I choose to give myself permission to get my needs met. I choose to make self-care a priority. I choose me.

Love her… Love her like a fish loves the sea or a bird loves the sky. Love her in the way that your heart feels like it’s going to burst at any moment every time it beats. Love her skin and the way it feels against your own, soft and warm and utterly flawless. Love her for the way her voice trembles when she can’t keep it together anymore and love her when she holds onto you as if you were the only thing that was keeping her alive. Love her, because some days she just can’t do it herself.

(love)    i let him inside last night, it was cold, the blood on the living room carpet is mine not his, his chipped china face shouldn’t be there, his sing-song voice shouldn’t echo where it doesn’t belong. he shouldn’t belong here.     (lover)    i let him closer to my heart than any other childhood memory martyr, any other missing fragment, fractured glass shard fingernails digging into flesh, this mighty muscle has become so raw i doubt healing will be an option.    (loved)    i miss him.  i miss feeling fields of strawberry lips swaying, lulling me to sleep in his arms, strong trees that planted roots among my own. “its only dirt” he’d said, but this dirt was my only home.    (lost.)     i can’t plant flowers here anymore. his roots sucked the soil dry, void of happiness, i can’t grow gardens anymore. spots of orange light still shine through drawn curtains, but the setting sun is not enough. this isn’t enough. it was never enough. i was never enough.

You live your days thinking you’re stuck in the same old town. But darling, you’re young, there’s millions of people that are yet to touch your life, there are 100’s of countries still out there awaiting your arrival, so many lovers waiting to claim they’re yours forever. Don’t spend your days thinking you’re stuck because there is still so much out there waiting for you to experience. Life is not meant to be lived in one place. So, go to Australia and chase the horizon. Go to France and see how big the Eiffel Tower is for yourself. Get so lost in adventure that you forget what it’s like to be trapped.

She poured the world into her soul, hoping it would make her whole, but the emptiness would always stay because she gave too much of herself away.

She never felt like she belonged anywhere, except for when she was lying on her bed, pretending to be somewhere else.