Stack the pieces

One last piece

Stacked upon me

Heavy piece by piece

Now coming three by three

I thought you were a lover

But no not for me

Killed me with that kindness

That fake bullshit make believe

No more endless forgiveness

I will no longer seed

Never give you the time

Nor a day to appease

You only wanted to see me bleed

Came back after eons

Twist the knife as you please

I just always accept and agree

But no, not this time, this time I leave

Hear my silence now

As I pick off these fleas

Just the stillness left

Wringing in your ears as I leave

No longer can you drag me down

No longer will I heed

Not even worth a story

Nor even a good deed

Open arms 

Sometimes I wonder if he hated me only because I saw behind his mask. I saw the vulnerable sensitive parts of him and I was still OK with that. I loved those parts. I just wanted him to love them too.

He wanted me to fall in love only with his own delusions of what he wished he could be. He wanted fantasy over truth. But the truth was much more powerful and beautiful than any fantasy ever could be.

He was more than he believed, yet he could not allow himself out in the light for fear of being seen. What he didn’t realise was he was making himself less than, not more. I hope one day he finds his way home, into open arms.

Unrequited Love

When you love someone but they can’t meet you, or maybe you can’t meet them where they need to be met. It’s one of the most frustrating, heartbreaking & sad human experiences to be had. All the wonderful potential just stagnant and waiting idle, treading water and holding one’s breath. You just wish for a miracle and for things to be returned not just temporarily but consistently and without measure. But all that happens instead is maladaptive coping tactics that try to hide the shame and anxiety of not feeling enough, or the confusion of not knowing what to feel, a push and pull game occurs. Love can be such an elusive thing in an age where people only wish to share highlight reels. But love is no game, yet many are merely players.

What they see

People think they see me

But they don’t see anything that’s there

They miss my heart, my kindness

My soul as it lays bare

Physical form, it blinds some

It keeps away our true light

Distracts us from our purpose

Chasing fantasies into the night

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