First the Worst, Second the Best
When I see her face, I am reminded of the fact that you felt her. Pictured her caressing your spine. You: putty in her hands. She must have been the Juliet of your dreams.
You took every chance you could to call her callus and cold hearted. But all I picture is her weaving you into a spell of submission. Being under her thumb was probably your favorite position. I showed up with cupcakes at your door. Begging to make you shiver the way she did. But I will never make you shiver the way She did. I will never carve at your heart like a two year old. Take a magnifying glass to your mistakes. I will always embrace you. Because “Hate cannot drive out hate; Only love can do that.”
I remember being drunk and done up. You handed me her old face wipes. Solemnly saying she forgot them. I removed my face. Painted memories of her over: My eyes. My lips. When you kissed me- you said I smelled like her. It was that moment, I thought to myself: run.
I was stuck in a place where remnants of monsters kept cascading over my existence. I will never be the girl begging at your doorstep for your presence. I am the girl that will stand by your side, writing you love poems. Personal cheerleader. Surprise baker. Spontaneous adventurer.
When you said I don’t see much stars out tonight. I replied by saying that there must be too much light. How 2 blocks over it was racing with constellations. How the night sky could mesmerize you to a standstill.
At that moment, I wished I could have been that sky. Just once.
“You are more than enough.” He say’s.
How can that be? Isn’t everyone looking for a bit of it? A bit of fullness? Is it just the opposite then? Am I too much comfort, not enough broken? Do you wish for a paper doll to cut up and plaster on your wall?
Darling. If there’s one thing I hope you take away from me it’s this:
I. Do. Not. Need. To be. Fixed.