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Skinned Knees and Broken Hearts: Why I Love Roses

Josephine asked if I’d rather have broken bones or a broken heart, I said neither, really now, next question please. If I could, I’d avoid any and all pain, I’m not a masochist.

 A broken heart is not new to me, even before I understood hurt; my heart was already in pieces. Along with skinned knees and that one time a car ran over my foot, I've always known pain. That's the legacy of an alcoholic father and an absent mother; you grow up way too fast.

I was stealing flowers from my doctor's practice when a car ran over my foot. Every day on our way back home from school, kids  ran into the yard and plucked roses from the rosebush and ran off. For months I watched them, thinking about how juvenile they were acting, why couldn't they just go in and ask? One particular day, for no apparent reason, on a whim, I decided I wanted a white rose. I plucked up the courage and ran into the yard, plucked a rose, as I was running out of the yard, I collided with a sedan in the drivewa…
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A Love like Yours, like Ours, like Mine

They tell me to love myself
They don't know that loving you is easier
They tell me to love myself first and then I can love you

They don't know that loving you has opened the door to loving me
You see the pieces of myself I bury in darkness and you embrace them, embrace me, whole heartedly and I join you as we wrap our arms around me
Soothing your demons has taught me how to sooth mine

Your candor has taught me how to be myself
I can face the world knowing that you love me and now I love me too
You've taught me I can live without you
I never want to see the day I do

I am tempted to harden my heart
Turn it to stone
So I can never be hurt again
Shut out this breaking
Reinforce and fortify the iron gates with a steel will around my heart

But all that will do is freeze you between the concrete walls and engrave your name in stone

So I will cry myself to sleep
I will cry until the last tear flashes you out of my system
I will miss you, I'll go mad with wanting you till I am sick and then I will throw up and start the recovery

I will love you and I will kiss strange men to erase the feeling of your lips on mine on some nights and on others I will reread all our conversations and stare at your pictures, maybe stalk your social media
And when it's all said and done
I will have my heart back in my own hands

To the lost, broken and forgotten

If you feel lost or do not know which way to go
If you don't know who you are anymore or maybe never got the chance to get to know yourself
You can't recognize the person in the mirror
You lost yourself along the way
Maybe you morphed into someone else
Maybe for someone else
You don't know which way is up or whether you are coming or going
Maybe you are at a crossroad

If you're forgotten
No one sees you, the unshakeable pillar of strength that has no one to lean on
Maybe they left you behind
Or realized how truly alone you are when you stopped calling and no one called you

If you are shattered
Your pieces so small it's impossible to mold yourself back together
The person you once were completely erased

You're not alone
7 billion people on the planet, someone on the other side of the world understands
You're understood
You're not okay, that's okay
You're broken
You don't have to pull yourself back together
You can stop the charade
You don…

For the Love of My Life

I have never been particularly brave or strong. I am not the kind of person who would put myself in harm's way to save someone else. Unless the situation requires it of me and I see no other alternative.

Life has demanded I give of myself even before I knew who I was. So I am taking the time to find out who that is, who I am. Initially that required facing up to the trauma and pain that had defined my existence for so long and its companions, denial and repression, as coping mechanisms.

Now that I have made some headway and I am somewhat in touch with my feelings, I find real moments of peace and genuine joy. Although facing disappointment and sadness is still a herculean task, I am no longer running away from situations that may have a 10%  chance of blowing up in my face.

I have never been particularly brave or strong but now life is requiring of me to be courageous. This time, for myself. I am not the kind of person who is particularly full of life, but I find moments to dance,…
He put his hand in mine
It was cute
First date, progress

I'm over it
first dates, cute things
Can we move past the talking stage
I want to find home

I'm the girl who writes love poems
sad poems
Dear boy, please love me
Dear boy, fuck you!
Mommy please love me, daddy please love me
Love poems, sad poems
Somebody, please love me

Love  me
I love me
Boy, mommy, daddy
Do you hear me?
I said I love me

One of these days

One day I am going to learn how to ask for help, one of these days I am going to be able to request assistance from the ones I love.
Some day soon I'll send that "hey, I am not okay" text.

You see one of my best friends passed away today a few years ago. He was not only my best friend but I was also in love with him. I never told him.  It's alright though, he told me about his feelings.

Last night, I cried myself to sleep. I woke up with a headache, which is why I hardly ever cry. These headaches hurt like a MF! I've been putting on a brave face for the world while slowly dying inside. I suspect no one can even tell today was especially made to torture me. I'm just having one of those days. Some years are better than others. This year is better than last year. Last year was hell. This day is also hell-ish.

I'm wondering why I can't ask for help. Minimal effort, send an SOS text. Is it because I cannot rely on any of my friends? Is it because I am too …