i am so tired

of being ashamed

of my body

of my identity

of my pain

i am so tired

of always giving in

to everyone who says

you are utterly broken

i am so tired

of caring so much

about disappointing someone

who has disappointed me

a thousand times

i am so tired

of loving this person

so much

when they wouldn’t love me the same

if they knew who i loved

i am so tired

of never being enough

of being seen as broken

as something to be fixed

why can’t they tell me

you are enough

you don’t have to fit

what people say you should be

why can’t they love me the same?

yes i’ve changed

but can’t they see i’m happier

even if i’ve found hope in a new place?

can’t they see me

as i am?

A black sock made sodden by the rain have fused to the concrete floor.

Owner unknown.

Sacrificed to the elements, no longer having a purpose.

Trodden on by passers-by, ignored, alone and scared.

With time the colour fades to a washed-out black and shoes imprint their marks upon its woolly surface.

The rain washes away the dirt and sins, while the sun warms the sock and makes it look fresh.

No longer fit for purpose, no longer a pair, the floor is now its destiny.

Yet, the sock still hopes for a second life as the first snowflakes fall.

Sometimes I would call your name just to see your hair dance and eyes give me attention.

I swear that I loved you and tear up anytime you are mentioned.

It wasn’t your time, Champ. I could’ve done more to ease the pain in your joints.

The vet says you lived a long life and to be fair he made good points.

But he doesn’t know everything you’ve done for me, nor the comfort you brought.

There’s irony in your discomfort and how hard you must have fought.

I’m so sorry Champ, my decision was selfish, seemed easy, and made far too quick.

Your eyes showed plenty of life and this makes me feel sick.

Your golden hair danced like never before as I carried you in to the vet.

You were my brother, you were my friend, and that day is my biggest regret.

Oh the way you looked at me as that needle dug in your leg,

You were confused and betrayed, and soon to be dead.

I had no right to do what I did.

I convinced myself you were at your end.

But you weren’t. I’m sorry.

I've waited for years on end

I've killed my heart plenty of times for their happiness

I've been stabbed for so many years

And I'm always left in the same place I started

Alone and in pain

Everyone always left me to rot

Everyone always left me to die

And I let them

I should've done something

I could've done something

But everytime someone new comes along...

They just try to break me

And it must be so disappointingly easy

Because I let them

The worst part about being betrayed

Is that it never comes from your enemies

i thought you were different,

i may be hopeless when it comes to love,

but my hopes were high for a reason,

you were my everything and now suddenly not there,

i spend another sleepless night trying to replace your touch with someone elses,

something that feels impossible at the moment,

for no one compares to you,

there is nothing more i want than to lay in your arms,

my whole world seems to be crumbling apart without you here,

i want to go back,

why can’t we go back?

Part One: Full

You filled my life with music

Major chords and resolutions

up high and way down low

You filled my life with laughter

Tinkling like staircase wind chimes

above a lonely rose

You filled my life with writing

Pages and pages of pen marks

filled to the brim with prose

You filled my life with meaning

From your eyes to hair to body

from your head to your toes

You filled my life with promise

A future-like seed in your hand

that you never did sow

You filled my life with wishes

They piled so high that they blocked

out the light, nothing grows

You filled my life with music

But laughter and words aren’t enough

You never planted that seed of promise

And so I left you alone.

Part Two: Empty

I emptied your life of its music

Now that we are forever cleft

the piano has gone out of tune

I emptied your life of its laughter

The water is still and the air dead

save for the haunting loon

I emptied your life of its writing

Words are no longer friends of yours

they wait in my bedroom

I emptied your life of its meaning

You search and you search for a sign

but can’t translate the runes

I emptied your life of its promise

You hold tight the future-like seed

and you stare at the moon

I emptied your life of its wishes

As darkness falls you think I would

do anything for you

I emptied your life of its music

And what is life without laughter

You walk away from me and the world

Never once looking back

Leaving me alone

I say I was really young,

he looks at me with glossy eyes

and an empty smile and waits for me to continue

I tell him I don’t know what I did wrong

I say maybe things would be different

if that hadn’t happened

Maybe I would be different

Maybe I wouldn’t feel so sad all the time

Maybe I wouldn’t feel haunted

by ghosts past of all the men I’ve loved ever since

Maybe I would know how to let go

I tell him about the times he should’ve held my hand

but let go instead

About the afternoons I spent crying

because how could I be enough if he didn’t want me?

i tell him it’s hard not to love an absent man

when i’ve been taught to love him

and that’s all he’s ever been

I tell him about the times I wanted to scream at people

I wanted to say please let me hurt

But how I instead trained myself to go quiet

To remain silent

To keep that pain inside of me, hidden,

like a treasure or a really annoying mosquito bite

I don’t tell him about the moments I spent

scratching my skin till it bled looking for what

itched so I could have some relief

I don’t tell him and he disappears.

I didn’t tell him how it hasn’t stopped itching

how I still hurt

every time another man breaks my heart

and it starts all over again.

What I tell my father about the first time a man broke my heart - {renata ferretti}

there is an urgency in my corpse.

a drive to heave onto my feet

for some semblance of a goodbye

and yet, it is here i will lie.

motionless, as the car doors snick shut.

their words filter through my window,

and i know my voice should join them

but i can't muster the strength.

is this what sadness does to me?

i could give this deadened body a name

call it a victim or a fool

either way, i lie still as a husk in my room.

she's saying goodbye

the final hugs are being transferred

but i don't think i could stomach that

along with all the hurt.

she lied to me

and i thought she was better.

so for now i'll stay here -

but maybe later, i'll write her a letter.

maybe i'll break my vigil

wish her the very best.

maybe someday i can do that

without feeling an ache in my chest.

for now, she'll go quietly

taking her poison and lies,

along with her joy and smiling eyes.

god, why did she have to die

and walk away like nothing happened?

A smile bit at the corners of her lips

a million thoughts flying through her mind

yet not a single one was about the essay

that her friends assumed she was worried about

No, she was thinking about the coolness of water

as it submerged her deeper into darkness

she was thinking about the roughness of a rope

that wrapped around her neck when she stepped off

she was thinking about the pop of pills

that would take her away from this world

because she didn’t mind the idea of dying

because anything was better than living in this nightmare

that people dared to believe was a dream come true

And she was thinking about the shiny little blade

that she ran across her wrists, just so that she could feel something

something real, just so that she could say she was still human

as little red beads of crimson dripped and shined from her skin like rubies

And she pulled her long sleeves further down

hiding the scars that shot across her arms like shooting stars

because they were something she was supposed to be ashamed about

and the thought of being called an attention-seeker killed her inside

because depression was just something everyone had

it was just a phase

So when she cried herself to shreds at night

choking on her own sobs

all she could think about was the word liar

Because her friends told her she was just lying, that it didn’t matter

they told her that the problems she had would pass

even though the weight in her chest never went away

and her thoughts became even darker than before

and she kept telling herself it will pass

she kept telling herself that she was making a big deal out of nothing

she kept telling herself that what she was feeling wasn’t valid

even as the screams of the little girl inside her

told her that these were only lies to keep her afloat

and each day kept dragging her farther and farther down

and she kept forcing herself to smile in front of a crowd of people

who never really cared about her at all

and this cycle kept going on and on

until finally she collapsed from the weight of the world

Because isn't it better to just let go?

and she asked herself this as the night wind whipped around her

as she stared at the crashing waves below

and thought about the freedom she'd feel with letting go

because it's not like anyone really needed her

she was just a waste of space

the wind wove its fingers through her hair

as she recalled the letters she addressed to her family sitting on her desk

everything was ready for her to leave

all she had to do was let go

and she did

no, you are never enough. and all those "i love you"s

were phrases in the form of coins (you were the only rich

a man never wants to be), constantly you throw them into your

wannabe lover's well of romantic fantasies; but this wish,

will never come true for you because you are not enough,

nor you never will be. so even though you just wanted to be

a person someone takes their earbuds out (because they

actually care what you have to say instead of nodding), that

doesn't mean you ever will be. because you do not get to feel

the beauty after a waxing, you are nothing but the wax that burns the

person-you-pine-for's skin; they're screaming at you 'cause you

are not nor will ever be worth the pain to them. and yes,

you are the definition of agony and loving you would be a

monstrosity, because if you mean nothing one to anyone then,

why would they dare to love and care for you? no, you are not

enough to be loved and you never will be. so throw away

that weed (just as they did with you) you're using to count hopes

with because the answer is clear, right here: no, they love you not.

and take your tears and collect them in a dirtied jar (do not waste

the clean ones); pour it into the lake off the highway; pluck out

your heart; carve it into a million pieces; then drop the damn thing

in after it. since no one will ever love you, why hold such an organ

that simply wastes space? so no, you weren't enough. you are not enough.

you will never be enough.