My Big Fat Heart

Edwina. Thirty something. A collection of poems, and other literary things. "One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't utter." - James Earl Jones

[mybigfatheartpoems]

my heart is a coffin

In a desperate attempt at love,

I made the mistake of getting attached 

to a boy who is too good to be true.

My heart is already preparing him for burial.

The funeral began the night we met.

I hate to be so morbid, but I am so afraid.

In my defense, I have every right to be afraid. 

Every prior attempt at love 

was cursed from the moment we met.

I fall so quickly, I get too attached, 

and I always end up at another burial

because the love is never quite true.  

For so long I’ve looked for someone true. 

If it finally happens, will I be too afraid 

to believe it? Will I plan another burial,

prematurely? Will I fall short of love 

once again, will I try to run before I get attached? 

Will I pretend we never met? 

And if we never met,

what then? Because it’s true, 

I’m quick to get attached, 

but what’s the alternative? Should I be afraid 

of everything that looks like love? 

Must I always prepare my heart for burial?

Because only a burial 

can save me from the hearts I’ve met, 

from all the almost love 

that may or may not have been true. 

Maybe then, I won’t be afraid 

of getting attached.

That’s the worst part, getting attached,

so I always plan a burial.

It’s inevitable, and I’ve been so afraid 

since the night we met 

that he’s just too good to be true… 

That I might already, stupidly, be half in love. 

So here I am, tragically attached, 

even though we’ve only just met,

and I’m preparing him for burial 

before he’s had a chance to prove he’s true, 

because I’m so afraid

(that I’ll always fall short) of love. 

[mybigfatheartpoems]

(after 2 years of heartache)

Now I know what kind

of love I want. Now, I will

not settle for less.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Early Grave

I am grieving you

before we’ve even had a

chance. I want to spare

myself the shock of heartbreak,

so I’m doing it early.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

idwtly.

i don’t want to love

you, but i love you and i

hate myself for that.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Starve

“You’re a snack,” he says,

“I just wanna take a bite.”

But he’s sorely mistaken —

I am a five course meal that you eat using every utensil on the table; you take your time, appreciating every delicious morsel, lick the plate clean when you’re done and ask for more.

I am a special edition vinyl album with acoustic tracks, live versions, and remixes; I tell a story with my music, you listen until you can’t hear anything but my voice in your ears and you never skip a track.

I am a Blu-ray Disc with bonus features, behind the scenes clips and an alternate ended that you’ll watch on repeat until I’m burned into your memory.

I am not a “snack”.

You cannot simply “take a bite”.

You don’t just get a taste of me whenever you’re feeling peckish.

You will devour me whole or you will starve.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Where does my love come from?

Where does my love come from?

A heart this big, this soft, this full has to get its love from somewhere, no?

From the ether, I suppose. From the angels, perhaps.

We love because He first loved us.

From my mother, of course. The first person to ever hold me, look at me, care for me, adore me. A love like that transcends space and time and logic. A love like that is forever — a promise, a guarantee.

Silly me. For now I look for that kind of depth in every fleeting thing that looks like it might be love, that has the potential, that says the right things, that tells me I’m pretty.

Where does my love come from?

A place so sacred I can’t even say it out loud, a place I won’t see until my eyes close for the final time, a place I have only imagined, but I know is as real as the air I breathe.

A heart this big, this soft, this full — my love is magic, my love is miraculous, my love is monumental.

If I give it to you,

please be gentle.

[jensenacklesruinedmylife]

i lay here

in the bed where you once slept beside me

trying to find the words to tell you

that while I know i’ll move on from you at some point, but it will take a long time, and it will hurt.

how does one say:

i hope you never forget me, i hope you always regret this, i hope the thought of losing me rips your heart into pieces, i hope this haunts you for the rest of your life —

but also,

i hope you find happiness as soon as possible, i hope you meet someone you love enough to marry, i hope you think of me fondly forever.

i am grieving what we almost had, what we should have had, what we never will.

i should be angry, but that stage of my grief is always short lived. it’s the depression that sticks around, and the bargaining that makes me feel so small.

the saddest part is that i already know this will happen again.

my heart is stubborn, loud, way too big. i let strangers hold onto it before making sure their hands aren’t shaking with the weight of it. i let them pull and tug at it, hoping they’ll want to keep it, cherish it, shove it into their own chest.

instead, they give it back, bloody, bruised, broken.

the story repeats itself, inevitable.

i feel too much.

i never learn.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Madly

Sadly,

I want to be madly in love.

I will happily, willingly, go mad for love.

I want to be utterly consumed by another soul.

I want to be hungry for them all the time.

Ravenous.

Desperate.

And them for me.

I want to be impossibly gentle and outrageously fierce with my love.

I want the kind of love where I cannot remember or imagine or dream of my life without them in it.

I want them to fit perfectly against all my jagged edges, my uneven sides.

I want a love that makes my sharpness soft.

I want a love that makes the stars align.

I want their presence to be my solace. I want their arms to feel like home. I want their eyes to tell me everything I need to know. I want to read their skin like it’s my own, like a map I’ve studied for my entire life.

I want to laugh so hard I am brought to tears, in the best possible way. I want my smiles to hurt my face, every day, because of love.

I want my heart to glow.

I want to wrap myself in love like a weighted blanket. I want to feel warm and adored and safe.

I want unending infatuation.

I want endless affection.

I want unyielding loyalty.

I want someone who stays.

Love me, as deep as the ocean, as wide as the cosmos, as long as time allows, and after that, too.

I want to be madly in love.

Sadly, I will go mad for love.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Facebook Status

You make me want to

post song lyrics as my Facebook status

that leave everyone wondering

who I’m talking about,

(I imagine that you’d see them,

you’d know the song and you’d feel bad

because you’d know I was hurting

and you’d know it was your fault),

but I haven’t used Facebook since 2017 and

I should know better by now

than to share my feelings.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

heartbreak in 11 parts (unsent texts.)

1. I’d like to pretend that I’m fine, that I’m moving on and doing okay, but I’m not okay. I still cry about you. I think about you every day. Every song reminds me of you. I miss your arms around me and your hands and your mouth. I miss your eyes. I miss hearing you say you’re obsessed with me. It’s insane and sad and nonsensical. You’re a ghost in my head. I can’t get rid of you.

2. The truth is, I’d still give you my heart if you asked for it. If you told me tomorrow that you wanted me back, I’d run to you without question. I’d kiss you until we forgot we were ever apart. And somewhere in my mind, I’d think — this is a huge risk. I’d ask myself, are you sure? What if he hurts you again? What if you ruin each other? What if you’re still not enough for him? Do you really want to take that chance? And the answer would be yes. Obviously it wouldn’t be easy, it would take work and patience and conflict and compromise, but you’d be worth it. If there’s a chance it could work, I’d still want to try. You made my heart so happy in the short time we were together that any more time with you would be precious in and of itself, regardless of the outcome. Knowing you is a gift. Loving you would be effortless. And I want to, god I want to.

I understand your hesitation. I know your concerns and they’re valid and important. I know why you don’t think we have a chance. I just can’t help wondering, is this truly how it’s supposed to be if we both hate it so much? If it feels so wrong? Everything in me is telling me to fight for this, to convince you to live in the moment with me, but logically I know it would be pointless. Idk. Something about us is special. The way we fit, our common interests, our similarities, the timing, the chemistry, our locations — it felt like fate. I’ve been grieving this loss for weeks and I’m no closer to acceptance.

I’m grateful to have you in my life in whatever way I can, full stop. You’re amazing and I don’t want to lose you, and I’d be honored to be your friend. I’m just not sure I’ll find this kind of connection with someone else. Maybe someday, years from now, but I just want you. It’s pathetic and selfish and scary but it’s how I feel. I don’t want to feel this way, I wish I could turn it off, wish I could break this magnetic pull you have on me, but I can’t. Why is it so hard?

I know this is a lot and it’s unfair, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to overwhelm you just because I am overwhelmed with everything I’m still feeling. You owe me nothing. I just want you so badly and everything hurts.

3. One of the hardest parts of this is not inviting you over when I’m home with nothing to do. I’ve never craved someone like this.

4. You said it was me, that I was your type. I can still be your type. I still wanna be yours.

5. Maybe this is all just temporary infatuation. Maybe I’m being childish, thinking these feelings won’t one day disappear, like they all do. Maybe it’s naïve, imagining a future with you where there isn’t one. I have too much hope. I want more than I can have.

6. I’m trying to tell myself that everything happens for a reason, that maybe I’m better off without you, that I’ll feel better once more time passes, but it all sounds like bullshit. Not talking to you, trying not to think about you, it feels wrong. I hate this. I can’t stand it.

7. Sometimes it hurts so bad I don’t want to get out of bed. I do, because I have to, but it’s hard. There’s a pit in my stomach and I’m nauseous about it all day. Some days I’m fine, I’m distracted, I can forget for a while. But when I’m alone with my thoughts, it just hurts.

8. I’m realizing the space that you need doesn’t help me at all, but I know this isn’t just about me. I want you to be okay, and if we want any chance at developing a friendship, I know I’ve got to give you that space. I just didn’t expect it to be this hard.

9. Everything reminds me of you. But I know I can’t have you, so I’m going to try to move on. I’m going to try and eventually I will succeed. Part of me hopes you are filled with regret when I do. Part of me hopes we can remain friends when I do. Part of me hopes you come back to me some day. Part of me never wants to see you again.

10. I still think about you. I still miss you. The thought of us still makes me sad. But it doesn’t tear me apart the same way anymore. It’s just a dull ache. But it’s there and idk when it’ll go away.

11. It breaks my heart to let you go. But I’m letting you go.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Oh hi.

I’m almost 31 now (that’s fucking insane btw) and I still write poems sometimes. I think I’ll start sharing them again.

If you still follow this blog, thank u and bless u and love u.

[sykesarchive1]

if you or a loved one has been diagnosed with mesothelioma

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Angel Veins

This year, I donated soul.

Like blood, I need much of it for myself. But I was so full of soul, I thought I could give some away.

But these angel veins are more delicate than I thought.

After so much assault,

they tend to collapse.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

crush(ed)

I can already taste the regret on my teeth.

It's been two days since we met and I'm doomed, I can feel it. I've once again bit off more than I can chew. This is all too familiar this is my fate sealed this is not good, this is self-sabotage but here I am.

A slave to my feelings once again. A slave to ambition and willpower and flawed confidence and I can already taste defeat in my gut.

It's inevitable, because I never get what I want.

Not in the end.

I'm nauseous with self doubt. I'm vomiting blood.

It's too soon to write poems about him, about this, dripping in pessimism and assumptions, but I may as well get it over with now.

I don't know how I ended up here again, so soon.

I've yet to taste the heartbreak on your tongue, but I want to. It's always worth it,

until it isn't.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Welcome To The Rest of Your Life

Fell asleep in my underwear, too tired to do anything more than brush my teeth.

I complain about the mundane, fill my head with first world problems, cry a little.

Tell me I should be more grateful, remind me how lucky I am, how much I have.

I can’t hear from so far away, drowning in my own mind, in self-inflicted stress.

Sell my soul to my future self, the ideal path awaits me, five year plan intact.

I’ve wanted it for so long, imagined only the finish line, but I can’t see it yet.  

Well here I am, just a few steps away from the rest of my life, and

I just want to pause, wait, sleep on it -- remember when it was all just a dream?

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Shame.

Once upon a time, there was a perfect girl. Once upon a time, she could do no wrong. Oh, but she’s vile, sitting on her high horse, side sadle, like a royal, and her feet never touch the ground, like an angel, and although her halo is crooked now, she’s still holier than thou. Pretends to be without a flaw, because no one ever told her she was capable of hurt.

She was a perfect girl, never guilty, always the victim, unaware that her words could cut like shattered glass, she bleeds him out slowly and ignores the pool of blood. It’s a power she never wanted, lethal to the fragile, but it’s not her fault. He didn’t have to love her. A professional victim, eyes prepetually wet with tears from a few broken hearts and a broken mind, and she’s got the scars to prove it. But those scars have faded, and her halo has dimmed So she hides from the light, and she hides her sins under the sheets or in the bathroom cupboard, looking for relief in the middle of the night. There are secrets only God knows, but she’s yet to confess. Her knees are far too delicate…

Tall heels, short dress, head bowed, legs crossed. She sits in the last pew and wonders why she’s been shown so much mercy, despite what only God knows.

Once upon a time, she was a perfect girl, like a royal, like an angel, and then someone loved her enough to see her flaws.

So she broke his heart.

[mybigfatheartpoems]

Up In The Air 🌧

I've been thrown a few feet in the air by life, it seems.

After a quarter of a century, I still haven't learned to avoid the twists and turns that never seem to stop heading my way. I still forget to jump when the rug gets pulled out from underneath me.

The years start coming and they truly do not stop, do they? If only they could just slow down...

I've been so patient, all this time, waiting to be this old, to be at this stage in my life. But a once younger me expected so much more by now. A younger me expected to almost have it all together.

Yet here I am, in midair, and while I'm blessed with a safety net, I can't help that sinking feeling in my stomach that will come as soon as I start falling.

Once again, I feel like it's all up in the air -- my future, my decisions, my destiny. I'm at a crossroads, but I can't make any moves yet, not till my feet hit the ground. I'll be stuck like this for weeks.

It's not the first time life has thrown me like this, and I always seem to walk right into it. It's almost unavoidable, and I'm sure God laughs at my stumbling, but there's nothing I can do.

It never lasts forever, but my anxiety grows every day. I just want to come back down. I just want to pick a direction. Till then, I float on, above my weakening safety net.

Till then, I beg gravity for mercy.