poems

takes a part of my fucking soul I will never get back

I am so sick of befriending love

that turns to pain

I am so tired of explaining who I am

when I don’t even know myself

it feels like every time I have to start over

I am aging 30 years

why do I have to keep moving on

you don’t say unforgivable things when you drink whiskey

we love more than we fight

in another lifetime, I have your babies (like we planned for years)

we buy that house down south

you communicate when you’re mad

in another lifetime, your hands touch my body (and my body only)

your lips only know mine

the only girl in your phone is me

I don’t have trust issues I cannot get past

in another lifetime

I will try to be more active on here, but I’m a lot more active on my Instagram, @poemprojects.

I hope to one day create a book.

Thank you,

I’ll tell you why.

7 years ago, I didn’t want to be alive.

it wasn’t just that, either. I didn’t plan on living past the age of thirteen.

however, I told myself, “maybe life will get better soon, I’ll stay till 16.”

I was fully devoted to not staying past the age of 16. So devoted that I never made plans for the future beyond the age of sixteen.

however, I made it past sixteen. now I’m almost 19 and I’m purely shocked with life.

I never planned for this life, I never dreamt about it, I never assumed I’d be here today.

every small detail in my life is overwhelming to me because I. never. planned. on. being. here. I didn’t even plan on graduating highschool.

Follow my Instagram, @poemprojects, for more.

I remember the first week after I found out the truth.

The truth being his devoted loyalty towards me was hardly devoted at all. The truth being that he cheated for months on end.

I remember the first week clearly. Sadly, I’ll never forget the pain and heartbreak that he brought upon me.

I stopped eating for a week. My friends were scared for my well-being. Food just didn’t interest me anymore. In fact, nothing did.

I lost 30 pounds in two months. I was less than a pound short of my weight being in double digits.

5’6” and 100 pounds. Long story short, I was a walking skeleton.

My nails were almost non-existent. Constantly shaking. Self-care was at an all time low.

I recall bawling in my fathers arms on multiple occurances, something I’ve never done before. Begging for this to all be a mistake. My dad was at a lost for words. All he could do was hold me.

Still, I got up out of bed, threw every picture, gift, clothing, and memory that was in my room, and I brought it to your house. I remember you begging me not to leave.

Leaving was my only choice. When someone is so detrimental to your health, whether it be physically or mentally, you are only given one rational option. Leaving.

And I did just that.

It has been five long, hardworking months. Five months without the person I wanted to share a life with forever. Five months without the person I loved more than myself.

In those five months, I made bad decisions, I drank more than I should’ve, I chose a life of solitude, but most importantly: I chose to love myself.

Yes, I will still cry on occasion. No, it’s not a pretty sight. This is healing. This is strength. This is me, doing something I’ve never done before. Choosing myself.

When I would beg the world to slow down, or even stop, I was still strong. I would get up the next morning, go to school, go to work.

I could’ve chosen to let this ruin me. He took my view on love away from me, I wasn’t letting him take my happiness away either.