do you ever feel like you don’t exsist anymore

like everything you once were no longer has meaning

as if the things that once held your head above the water

now are pulling you under the waves, drowing you

i feel like that a lot these days

but there’s a problem

i can’t swim

Dear everyone offended with my truth,

I’m scared to tell you the truth.

I’m scared to let you know what’s really going on.

I love you, but I don’t know if you really love me in return.

If you knew the truth I’m not sure things would be the same.

See the truth scares me, who I am sacres me.

You are worth more than I can express.

I couldn't live without you, I wouldn't know how.

But here I am, holding my biggest secret from you.

My biggest truth, hidden in my disguise.

I call it my secret but it's really not, since everyone already knows it.

Though no one brings it up, no one asks.

You see, it's one of those secrets that even if someone knew for sure -

they still wouldn't ask becuase if, by chance, they're wrong it is offensive.

The people who rasied me barely wispered the word around children.

They tried to silenced the voices of anyone who thought or lived otherwise.

And it fucking hurt, it still does.

It hurts to be 9 years old when you realize that you're different from the other girls.

It hurts at 11 when the word is thrown around as an insult.

It hurts to feel hated for who you are at 13.

And It hurts to be used to it at 15.

So somedays it's easier to stay quiet, it's easier to pretend.

And even on the days I would have rather clawed my way out of my skin -

I sat silencently listening to pastors, teachers and peers.

The words became engraved into my head.

Wrong. Gross. Against god. We don't talk about that.

So I'm sorry for lying to you.

But living a lie felt safer than telling the truth.

I thought being loved for who I'm not wouldn't hurt as much -

as losing people for being who I am.

And so I'm sorry, but I'm also really not at all.

I'm not sorry for they way you made me feel.

I'm not sorry for making you uncofortable.

I'm not sorry for the nights I cried myself to sleep.

Or the prays in which I pleaded for god to change me, to take my sin away.

I'm not sorry for realizing that my love isn't a sin.

I'm not sorry for being proud of who I am

And I am not going to let you try to change that.

Sincerely, the new me

You make me tense up, you make me want to scream.

I HATE YOU

I HATE YOU

I hate you.

You make sure my sister is around when you talk to me because you know how much it would break her heart to hear me tell you how I really feel so I wouln't.

Instead we talk like this,

"How are you?"

- good.

"What's new?"

- nothing.

"Love you."

- bye.

And you always linger at the door as if there is somthing else you want to say but you never do. I know.

I know this because everytime I open my mouth to yell, scream and let out all the hate I have for you inside of me I can't. My mouth goes dry and I don't say anything.

Neither do you.

"Bye,"

You say. Then you close the door.

Dad,

Your little girl is different now.

Your little girl is older now.

And she isn’t your little girl anymore.

- Fatherless

Daddy, where did you go?

Why was forgetting your pain put before me?

You would say that you loved me after leaving my skin red and sore.

You would yell at Mommy after goodnights were said.

Daddy, why can’t I remember?

Why is my mind as empty as the words “I love you”?

I can’t remember why I flinch when you stand to close.

I don’t undertand the flips my stomach does when I hear your voice.

Daddy, what happened to you?

Where did Daddy’s Little Princesess go?

Why did you let a phone call tear apart what I knew to be happiness?

Why did you let me feel like I am nothing but a shadow of your mistakes?

Daddy, who are you now?