Love never came soft
so I sharpened my mouth to survive it.
I learned early:
if it bleeds, it’s real.
If it hurts, it stays.
So I stayed.
I behaved.
I counted my steps I put everything in place.
The big mirror has always turned its back
again and again
until I stopped asking for approval to exist
Words that I have to chase.
Perhaps I’ll chose the ocean.
Something vast enough
to swallow this question whole.
Maybe the salty water from the ocean will fill me
lungs, throat, chest
Through the pain maybe I’ll be convinced that somewhere beneath suffocation
I would find my answer
Eyes finally looking at me.
But deep down I know the answer. There won’t be
Just more pressure.
Just more silence.
Just the same emptiness
wearing a different body.
The sun never touched me,
so I let the dark have me instead.
At least it stayed.
At least it didn’t pretend.
Now I sit
split open, quiet
mistaking survival for longing,
wondering
if disappearing would finally feel
like being held.
