Poisoning

The trauma he left beats inside me as a second heart

Damaging me like the unfortunate book in your basement flood

I can’t quite piece together his face anymore

But I still have each love letter handwritten, sealed with his name

Chained around my neck in a heart shaped locket

A reminder that there was once love here

Even if tainted

I have no idea where he is anymore

I don’t care to find out

 

Changing Seasons

The person I was 3 years ago would not recognize the person I am today

Even if standing face to face

Which is to say neither will he

He will never come back to me now

Which is fine

Since he was the one who broke me

Thrifted Love

The first time I got butterflies in years was sitting next to you on a humid late summer’s night giggling at stupid comments

Both too nervous to actually making the first move

For the first time in a long time I’m treated not as an accessory but as an equal by a man who sees that you have as much to offer the world as he does

And boy does he see galaxies in your eyes

And you hope this time leaving won’t shatter your heart like the last one did

Because working for over a week straight is only pretty in the numbers on your paycheck

A telltale sign of heartbreak is a suppressed appetite ant let me tell you how destructive that is when you’re already working 10 hours a day because you can’t bear thinking about his eyes when he laughed so you will do anything to keep your mind wandering back to him

You hope this won’t be another story you choke out when your future kids ask

You see a side of him he is too reserved to bring out until you’re by his side

Our laughter dances together under the stars in the moonlight

His hands feel like you’ve known them in a different time and place before here and now

We giggle together like children as our smiles answer inside jokes

I know it will hurt if you leave

I know my heart will be ripped out of my chest only to be pieced back together again

But I damn well hope I won’t have to do that again

Loving an Addict

The night we met he was too high to remember any of our names the next morning

We were in 8th grade and he had spilled Coke on his white t-shirt and somehow I still found him charming

At the time we were both about to hit rock bottom with no way to find a way back up

Some days I worried his heart would stop on him

I’m sure he worried I would end it all while he was sleeping

He is now a few years sober and engaged to a wonderful woman

Don’t get me wrong, I love her to death, but some days I feel like I was the one who got her hands dirty

But I don’t know, maybe she saved him

He tried to visit me when I was hospitalized a year after we met

They wouldn’t let him see me because he wasn’t family

I still have the card he wrote saying he loved me

Some days I wish we stayed but others I realized we would have engulfed each other until there was nothing left but ash

I am just glad he is still alive even if we remain strangers

Wrong Light

Whenever I write about you I talk about cracking

I forgot mentioning the way you morphed time like marmalade’s slow, letting us take each other in

There was a gallery displayed on your skin with every freckle, stray hair, scar that my fingers were hungry for

Your eyes held galaxies I could explore forever

Each time I paint you into words I forgot you were the home I thought my love could live in forever and how could I lose something like that

When you left I evaporated from the pools my tears melted me into

Nights when you were still here, you sleeping in my twin bed tangled limbs and all

Sleepily kissing your shoulder, you pulling me closer as your teddy bear

Awoken by thunder one night, your warmth as you still slept, the only thing I thought was how I was looking right at the rest of my life, dreaming, holding me tight

After your leaving I couldn’t even eat without remembering each conversation shared over a meal

To this day I don’t know why you left

Maybe you were afraid it was too perfect to be real

Every time your lips curved into a smile I thought I was watching the rest of our lives together play out

Each bout of laughter the house, the children, the adventures

Now each moment it fades a little farther as we forget the way we felt the calm storm of love

Left with the few moments our stories wound together as one

One Year (Revisiting Half A Year)

Day 1

You say cutting me off is for the best

Promises of forever fading

I tried leaving for months but your word overruled mine

Month 1

In my eyes you saw sunset’s goodbye bleeding into you

In hers you saw sunrise’s promise of a new beginning

How important was I if you could leave my memory so easily

Month 2

I have spent more money on cigarettes than I did you

Erasing your signature graffitied in my lungs from each time I breathed you in

Month 3

Our thread of texts consisting of you shattering me one last time no longer exists

You ripped me apart for months and my revenge is tiptoeing away from your grip

Shattered remains of me still remain where you left them

Month 4

I use to have nightmares about being alone

Now I realized I am not the sum of all those who love me but how I define myself in this pain

My phone no longer knows your name

Month 5

I choose happiness

Month 6

Friendships I once had now lost in your hands

Each time I tried to escape you threatened suicide

I want you to be haunted by the remains you left of me

But I know too well it won’t

Month 7

You stripped my ability to love from me

Trembling under the hands of another

You’re still sipping sweet tea from her collarbones

I was too strong of a drug for you

Month 8

I’m still trying to forgive you

Month 9

Each morning I leave my bed I prove your venomous love wrong

You haven’t thought of me since you left

Month 10

Abuse comes back to haunt in the strangest of ways

I am still afraid to love

For I will be vulnerable again

Month 11

Letters you wrote confessing your adoration live at my parents’

Reminding me of every suicide note I wrote when you were smothering me

People still don’t believe

Month 12

Drugs are never the answer until nothing else will piece me back together

The damage still lives here, more as a flooded room than a collapsing house

Knowing I’m better of now than I was then lets me breathe a little easier

Downpour

Standing in that downpour by your side, we were still worlds apart with our skin touching

I was watching the lightning dance across the pond to the beat the thunder laid out with childlike curiosity

Absent to your presence

Later that night I was asking myself if I was enough for you

I wasn’t

I wish I could go back and tell myself the date you would leave me cold

You looked at the world in rigid lines

Long ago you lost the curiosity I still harbored

Just because it was brief doesn’t mean it wasn’t exactly what I needed

We wanted what was best and it wasn’t each other

As you left I asked you to leave the door open

I kept it closed for so long before you

It was time to love freely through every downpour and every summer’s day

That warm rain encompassing my skin that night still lingers in my memory

Whispering to never question my own worth

Rain will still return to visit

 

Wrong Way

Love is a pain we forget

It tears you apart just to leave the pieces for you to craft back into the closest thing to whole you can manage

Nights my hands won’t stop trembling because I remember all the wrong ways he loved me

Wondering if he’s tearing her apart with the same claws he did me

When he left he didn’t even miss me

I spent months learning the correct definition of love rather than the one he hollowed out my bones with

His hands mold to her waist now

I can’t forget the way he called me baby knowing it would melt me to what he wanted

My heart broke hundreds of times in the silence the world spoke as an apology

I kept all the words you wrote me

Reading them I keep an asterisk at the back of my mind reminding that you corroded me until there was nothing left but a ghost

You taught me to fear love in the way I cracked open under you

There isn’t enough repair finished yet

Fragments

I unravel and rewire myself to become someone your heart will no longer recognize

The brand of you – a love gone by – lingers in the storms I still whether

I left you with nothing

Which you can say is better than leaving with every piece of me unrecognizable

You decided to mold me into something I wasn’t

I fought until my soul grew tired, having no ounce of awake left in me

I had no choice but to fall apart

Now I’m wondering if I still would have splintered and broke if I never felt the warmth of your hands molding this body

Into something my brain no longer recognized as its own

How can you still wake up and kiss her knowing the debris you left me will never rework itself into what it once was

If I ever face love again my heart will scream until I have no other option but to run

I can’t keep running forever but there are pieces of me I will never get back

You forgot to return to sender

The constant fear of having to look you in the eye again follows me around our hometown

Being vulnerable is not something I am capable of since the last time I put my heart in the hands of someone else

You gave it back burned to ashes

Rebirth of Dating

Generations X, Y, and Z are getting older as are the rest of the world. We are beginning to go to college, getting married, having families, and starting our careers. As we are doing this, we are being chastised for the way we meet our potential significant others. With the launch of Tinder, 50 million people use the app, and in my experience it isn’t always people under 25. Personally I have had someone 55 years old come up as a suggestion. No, I did not swipe right on that since he is older than my mom.

Many people, like myself, use dating apps like Tinder ironically because we are skeptical of dating sites in general. Older generations often criticize the way Millennials do everything, but keep in mind that when these older generations were kids, they had technology and ways of life that their parents didn’t have at that age. A Time article adequately puts this into words. “There was feminism in the 1970s – which freed women to heed both the urges of their bodies and the imperatives of their dignity,  allowing them to make the kinds of choices they never could before.  There was the pill in the 1960s and the back seat of the Chevy in the 1950s. There was the exquisite collision of illegal gin, hot jazz and the forbidden lure of the speakeasy in the 1920s.

Millennials seem to be taking dating not as seriously as their older counterparts once did. Many of us see that there are larger issues at hand than how we meet the person we marry if we marry someone at all. Keep in mind how at the moment the birthrate is down as well in America. The same Time article has a quote that I find fits well with why all this is: “Gordon cites 9/11 and the global recession as formative experiences for Millenials – and they surely were, piling burdens of loss and economic hardship on the shoulders of young people who might not be equipped to bear them[…]it makes the work of finding a mate more lightweight” See 9/11 occurred when I was 4 years old, and we are just finishing pulling out troops from the war caused by thus as I’m 18. We will most likely be paying for the war’s debt for the rest of my  life – maybe longer. The market crash occurred when I was 11 years old and America still hasn’t quite recovered. I will be feeling the effects of it for the rest of my life – most Millennials like me won’t ever be able to afford a house.

I saw a quote in a NY Times article that read “Traditional courtship – picking up the telephone and asking someone on a date – required courage, strategic planning and considerable investment of ego[…]” Clearly the author has never had social anxiety nor had to ask someone on a date via text. At least with a phone call you can forget about it – with a text you can read the rejection and heartbreak over and over and over again. I’ve given up so much of my ego to ask someone out via text just to be rejected.

There was a quote from another NY Times article that I really loved on the subject reading “[…] it takes dating back to the pre-Internet era,  to a time when people met potential partners, about whom they knew relatively little, at parties, bars, dog parks […]”. In reality, our dating habits aren’t as different as yours were. We are just worrying about different things than you were at our age. In the modern world, building families isn’t a priority anymore. Building our careers have become the priority since the job market is becoming more and more competitive.

Tinder isn’t the end of the world. We’re just trying to survive, so stop acting like your parents did towards you. Keep in mind you guys were the ones on OkCupid and Match.com as your marriage fell apart while we were shoving dirt in our mouths.