I want you to know that you hurt me. no, I need you to. I need you to see the shattered pieces of my self-worth and know what you did. don't play the fool, say you didn't mean to. words can feel like knives and i'm still pulling them from my body. I need you to see the scars beneath my skin. I need you to know, to feel, what you did.

you touched me and suddenly i was a fire red sunset. made me believe i was worth the caramel light i bathe in every morning.

its late november, your birthdays coming up soon. twenty three. i bet that tastes so sweet. you were still a boy, the last time we met. didn't know how to keep your hands to yourself, didn't quite know what the world had in store. i broke my bones trying to make it work, you broke your mother's favourite dinner plate. you'll be twenty three soon. a man, i guess. i've been thinking about you lately. been seeing you in the bodies of others, your eyes reflected back in my bathroom mirror. i often wonder where you are now. do you put on a tie every morning? kiss somebody goodbye every time you walk out the door? i've been reminiscing about the last december we spent together. the stars, the ocean. we existed in summer. i live in winter now. don't be mistaken, it stopped hurting a long time ago. i don't miss you anymore. my skin doesn't ache for your touch. i've just been thinking. i left pieces of myself with you. it'd be nice to know where they are. all your bruised knuckles and my self-inflicted scars. you'll be twenty three in a matter of days. it would appear, that we're adults now. i've been thinking about you. i hope you're doing well. i hope you found what you were looking for.

on days like these

you see the ocean in his eyes and you're not so sure why your heart feels like it is about to burst out of your chest. you spent your summers there; making art out of sand and adding to your collection of freckles. wrinkled fingertips and the smell of the sea embroidered in your hair. you built your home on the shore, always promised to return. but tonight, you're in a bar with a body full of hope and recklessness on your tongue. you're pouring yourself out to the boy with the blue eyes. you try not to lose yourself, become swallowed by the waves within. he looks at you like the beach after a downpour. he speaks like the calm before the storm. you see the ocean in his eyes and suddenly you understand that sometimes, home is a person.