#writtentherapy

[samantastark]

You think you know her but, do you?

Sometimes she thinks she doesn’t even know herself.

She lost herself at one point, and it took her many time to find the way back home; and right now, that home is herself.

[samantastark]

What a way to autosabotage yourself.

What a fancy way to put your inconsistency a name,

the perfect excuse for your narcissism to settle in,

a Russian roulette with those girls you don’t even know their names.

[samantastark]

I found the one I lost, the one I loved,

I found him in the darkness of the room,

it was only him, me, and the moon

as it was so long before.

[samantastark]

When I met you, I didn’t want to start loving you. I didn’t know what to do with the things I was feeling, so I wrote.

It started with a small random thoughts, then I realize how you were much more than just sticky notes.

You were there everytime I sat on the taxi back home, you were there on my quiet Tuesday nights and while waiting in the airport. I saw myself perfectly describing your persona in every poem I wrote.

Now I have written so many things about you that’s feels I know you for life, a short but beautiful life.

Maybe I was afraid of my own love and writing was my way to feel all of it.

Maybe I did loved you, and everything I wrote is the proof of it.

[samantastark]

I used to think I could shape into any place you were going, but your shadow was a place I didn’t fit in.

[samantastark]

I was about to cry when he held me,

I knew this was another goodbye, maybe the last one.

I've been there long before, in this blue nostalgia.

I’ve felt this devastating sorrow of being unable of finding hope for another “hello”.

The grief of what I won’t say anymore.

The pain of what I’ll never know.

[samantastark]

You were in my little things, in my daily life.

You were in the morning texts, you were in all the books I read in the cafe. You were there every time I listened to my music in shuffle, because I remember how you ordered each song after another. You were there when I ate crisps and popcorn together while watching a movie, or walking downtown with the rain on my shoulders.

You were in those small details, and when you weren't, those were no longer entirely small. Those details were actually what made my life as I knew, what put me together.

[samantastark]

Is not that I need someone to be complete, I don’t need them and never will. Is that I am whole at my own.