tell your story

yet never leave your arms

don’t coward and destory my soul with your fear

when you must leave

go.

don’t require me

the part that was never good enough

the forced silence part

the chubby girl with swollen eyes

clothes never her size

daddy’s girl, mother’s kryptonite

independence learned young

all just too, young child

but you tell me i’m good enough

i’m supposed to be the one learning that, satisfied hearing it from own lips

but it doesn’t hurt to hear it from yours

i offer you my present

yet you find my past

and you hold her

but i can’t have you

not when i dont have myself

i ache

i crave you

born within my blood; created in inconvenience

to break one myself

what a bittersweet notion of what i am chosing my life to be

this path for myself

built on their broken promise

mother wounds me

and i do not know what to say

that will save both her life and mine

i carry my wounds all my life in an unmarked grocery bag

never caring to recall it’s location

when i do find it, in the desolate corner of a bedroom i do not recognize

i do different than what i taught myself

the torn bag hides a gift

slowly wrapped, a careful package making it’s destined way down the assembly line

dusted with neglect, torn by anger, but coated in love

the note attached reads, “i’m sorry. i really hate regifting, i just didn’t know what to do with this after my mother gave it to me”

mother wounds me

mother’s wounds & me

a messenger, a marksman, a child

which is something i don’t do often

but i do remember choosing you all that time ago

maybe you chose me?

they do not differentiate much in the mind

you ever think about how when Ash went back to the library he sat in Eiji's seat? cus i also, think about this.

sometimes i think about how Eiji was the only one who got to say goodbye and even he didn't know Ash wasn't coming back. Ash did not give his sayonara to anyone else but Eiji.