artifice

we speak in riddles and doublespeak

and half-finished glances

i am tired of never saying what i mean

and hoping you understand

me:

coy but ready

you:

distant but yearning

everything is artifice

and we are just playing parts

Day 3-Write about interpersonal relationships and the games we play to avoid vulnerability.

Tensions

-->

I am beginning to name my knots.

Let one in my neck be Wanting

from every time I clenched my jaw after breathing in her scent.

Let the tightness in my shoulder be Disappointment who is also called Shame

a product of still wanting him to touch me

even though we both know he shouldn't

and being caught between recoiling and not.

Finally, the chronic ache in my back will be Distance

from consistently loving people that are too far away.

In the same way one muscle contracts as the other relaxes

these pains are interconnected

and I know that all these names mean the same thing:

I hold on for far too long and I need to learn to let go.

Dear Beloved

An open letter to everyone I’ve ever convinced myself I loved.

I.

I am still sorry.

I fear that you were just the

first in a long line

of men I will be

all too willing to bury

my loneliness in.

II.

 Now that I’ve figured

that you wronged me, I am not

ready to forgive.

III.

I loved you more than

you knew, but you were still right:

it was not enough.

IV.

I have learned what the

infinite tastes like but

I still haven’t learned

that people can’t be

 fixed because they aren’t broken,

or that I deserve

better.

Going The Distance

Have you ever gone through your personal poetry archives and stumbled upon an old piece that, at the time of writing, you were convinced was absolutely awful, but now that you've given it some space, it turns out it wasn't too bad after all? This piece is one of them. It's almost a year old and no longer personally relevant, but I hope you like it.

Distance pulls heartstrings taut

While memory taunts

Sighs go unanswered

Empty promises fill

Where your touch should be.

Silence breeds disquiet:

I quietly wonder

If it’ll be worth it in the end.