Retraction of envious intentions
Being void from ill-felt contentions
Losing the self in a meditative moment
A bruised past flaking away

The temporariness - none worth the sourness
To delicately embroider into a spectacular piece
A once silent recognition, now spoken
Birthing to a brighter future

Hidden and wild and sacred:
My thoughts.

Too cruel to be spoken
from the mouth of the innocent.

Too weak to be borne
from the heart that has endured.

Too loving to share with those
who will surely use them against me.

I write by my own hand
for if it were my voice
it would steadily tremble,
mumbled out of uncertainty,
stuttered and unsure.

Written on paper with pen,
my words are unshaken.

I said I would write a poem for you
And you said that’d be nice
But I’ve thought,
And thought some more
And walked the room till my heart grew sore
I sat with my head on the floor
And squeezed the sides of my nose
And watched the words dribble
And questioned who we are
When you say you don’t need me
And I say how that shouldn’t be true
But true to you, who am I if not needed
And this love poem isn’t needed
but I feel needed
As a pillow for your sorrows
The ones I swallow with need,

Why am I always sad?
Always.
No matter what I’m doing, saying,
Literally nothing would help me

Answer my
endless
questions.

Why am I so scared of losing them?
Why must my body force me to be social?
What did I do to deserve this?
I’ve been so good.
Where are my answers?