#writingsofagirl

4. I gave him half of my heart and my memory in hopes of never remembering his name. 14. I tried to turn in what was left of my body for a get of jail free pass. Without him, safety no longer existed. 17. I gave him my body in exchange for the hope of love. 19. I tore at my skin in the hope that he would pick up the pieces as though they were the pieces of my heart that he discarded on the ground. 20. I prayed for him. I prayed every day, for him. My savior. My destroyer. I gave him what was left of my heart, what was left of my body, only to be returned as, damaged goods. 29. I have nothing left to give. I prayed for you. I prayed you would be the man to bundle up my brokenness with ties that bind-To take what was left of my heart, bruised, torn and broken-To take what was left of my body, scarred, imperfect and aching-and beckon me to come inside.

Within the beats of your heart I hear a symphony

As I sit down to write tonight all I am is a jumbled box of mismatched puzzle pieces.

You see I’m not satisfied with anything that lives on the surface of the ocean. I want to know what treasures exist in the crevices where the storms hide them. Words, true words, are vitally important to me. A kiss can never hush them away. You see when your voice is choked out by the pain others cause, when your fear snatches your words right from the air as they pass your lips you learn how important your voice is. You learn you long to be heard. We all want our voice to be heard and our scars to be honored because its those scars that taught us we can survive. They taught us our lives are real.

Your fingers dancing across my skin. Melodies of desire. Histories of passion. Futures of unending love. Lightness in form. Conviction in function.

I don't want much......(unfinished)