When I feel like the storm isn’t going to pass you grab my hand and pull me into your lap
The best part of the love we make is the moments after.
The heavy breaths escaping both of our lungs,
Your head buried into my shoulder, my lips pressed against your neck.
Tracing the warmth of your back with my finger.
The best part of the love we make is how love made us
I’m so in love that I can’t write him down. Every poem his name is in doesn’t seem right because how do I explain the man who’s given me everything?
All I’ve my worst poems turned into my best suicide notes
I have the door closed.
In one hand I have pills, and the other my razor.
Both are screaming my name.
My hair is hiding my eyes as blood spills from them
Tears drip from my veins, I’m getting braver now.
The floor seems like an okay place to lay my head and rest my thoughts
So here I am, and there I go.
But where’s everyone when I need them? Where’s the sympathy, and listening ear? I know it’s my own fault for being a closed door but my god I try.
Everyone seems to be wrapping themselves around my bones,
breaking me apart just to be left alone
Tonight I lay in my loves lap, and we watched fairytales.
In that moment I was completely content. My brain relaxed and my heart full.
Earlier, I felt like the world was ending. I was shut off, and had nothing but self hatred running through me. I was angry, so angry. I felt betrayed, and rejected as I often do. We were on the bus, and it was empty. Just the two of us. I told him what was happening in my mind, and he took my hand, told me I’d be okay, and that I don’t need approval from anyone. It’s true. I’m still learning that. I struggle to understand that I don’t need everyone to approve of me, but he reminds me. Today was different because I actually let it sink in, rather then just settle on the surface. I actually stepped back, reevaluated everything I was feeling and thinking, and I stopped myself from digging myself under. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel like shit. And I’m still battling the thoughts even now, but I’m a little more at peace. I guess what I mean is I’ve often felt rejection, and countless times I’ve had people walk out on me. Especially my father. So this isn’t new for him. Or me. And I’ve had friends distance themselves from me before too. And I can understand. So, I let myself breath a bit.
And we got home and watched Cinderella spin around the ballroom with her prince. And I lay there, with mine. Both in love. And neither alone.
With him I can trust. With him I can sleep. With him I am safe. So, he is what I need. And what I’ll have. And I’m okay with that.
through the long nights with terrors that wake me into a sobbing mess; your arms are right there reaching for me. You hold me together, until I gently drift off. You’re the light house. You pull me in. You guide me to shore. To sanity. I don’t know how you do it. How you love me. How you always put me first.
How you see me at my absolute worst and manage to stay.
There have been so many times you picked me up off of the bathroom floor, I was suicidal, just gone, I was so gone. Like a ghost. Not there, but you were. In my zombie state you wrapped me up and wiped my makeup of, brushed my hair. Sat with me in the bath tub. You do whatever it takes
You’ve taught me what love is.
And that’s love.
Let me lay here
But pick me up
Let me drown
But help me swim
But Leave me alone
Wait don’t leave me alone
I don’t know
I do know
I really don’t, though
But I think I do
But I probably don’t