if brevity is the soul of wit then i'm witless

there's too many words in my head now they're here woops

[wordsfordoves]

maybe some days I’d just rather pick the joy than remember the sorrow

[wordsfordoves]

Something more to want

I just want something to look back fondly on

that isn’t first grade birthday parties.

I want un-trying times in abundance.

I want a scrapbook of untarnished memories.

I want a specific year to point at and say

“That's been the best one yet.”

I want something to describe clearly-

I want it to be bright and difficult to forget.

I want the immediate ability to explain

all the tangible joys in my life-

and the ability to do it coherently.

I want a book of memories without the strife.

I want to hear the excitable words of my friends

and bubble with the ability to respond

with all my own excitement in kind.

I want happiness I can’t see beyond.

I want desperately to fill myself with it,

with all of the smiles I’ve given.

I want to be the sunshine they think I am,

and for my body to start feeling lived in.

[wordsfordoves]

recently i’ve come to find you can measure me in rocky relationships and bad experiences

[wordsfordoves]

why does all love feel so fragile and littered with exceptions

[wordsfordoves]

for every time i apologize to others for the way i exist- for my tears, for my feelings, for my fragility -that's as many times as i must apologize to myself.

i drink tea as a hug and i rub lotion to hold my hands and i look myself in my mirrored eyes and i cry apologetic tears for once again dismissing my emotions.

i call myself crazy so others will like me and i apologize profusely to myself for letting them believe it.

[wordsfordoves]

every touch and kiss that i give to you renders me soft and malleable your lips give mine a softer skin new and clean and yet still sullied but perhaps that's not the correct word for i yearn for your touch when i'm near you.

i will shed my everything clothes, worry, skin and all i will willingly be scrubbed clean by your touch if it means i get to receive it.

[wordsfordoves]

don't you dare call me that; don't look at me that way as you say it. I do not speak in any code but my own.

don't you dare say that to me and look at my body like it deserves the compliments you are whispering. i do not speak in any code that i have not woven myself.

don't you dare call me that; don't you dare gaze at my body like it is what you are contemplating, don't you dare do this after touching every inch of me; don't you dare make me think that you say this with sincerity.

whatever code you speak in, whatever message you inject through my mouth with yours, however soft and sweet it seems to alien ears, it is bitter. harsh. unwanted and poisonous. infectious.

how dare you touch me then seal your lips as if your hands do not burn my skin.

[wordsfordoves]

it's the next day and i can't ignore that more than just my legs are sore.

but what can i do about that

[wordsfordoves]

there is something gorgeous about you about the body you exist within the mind you keep inside that body the soul i see inside your eyes as you hold my face and make me look make me stare make me see that thing that you don't show to me.

there is something gorgeous about you about the way that you touch me the words you whisper huskily to my ear and down my spine that i will replay every time that i'm alone. you ought to know those words will never leave my mind.

there is something stunning about you about the presence that you carry how the looks you give me vary and maybe that belongs to frustration but such a feeling is cousin to loving and sibling to lust perhaps i just want to hold your laughter just as close to me.

there is something stunning about you about the way you make me move and the way your body responds and all the ways you go beyond my sweetest dreams of sex and lust and perhaps even the type of love that comes from such a platonic place and the gentle way you still my face.

there is something nervous about you and about the way you avoid my lips the way every touch pairs with a wayward kiss and your face examines my body like it's treasured ground to tread lightly on and your eyes are drawn and i see lust's sibling in your lips that suddenly i'm not allowed to kiss that suddenly belong to the face of a boy too shy or too afraid or far too ... far too thoughtful of all of this.

there is something nervous about you but at this point i just have thanks and gratitude to match all the things that you have ever given to me. i take your laughter greedily as if it's tangible for me to steal as if you don't give it willingly as if i don't provide some too as if we can't both spare a few of them - both giggles and laughs and the smiles that fill my yearning half.

i just thank you for the words we exchange and the feelings on top of that both on the surface and buried within. i thank you for that silly grin you think that you've kept hidden away. i see it both in your eyes and the words you never allow yourself to say that you keep in plain sight on your tongue and on those lips... that suddenly i'm not allowed to kiss.

[wordsfordoves]

you thought me either incense or candle and forgot i come from a flammable book you ignite me and forget my light even as it burns before your eyes you call your flame insatiable yet one encounter leaves you fizzled while i'm left here with growing flames to blaze painfully for days and days my smoke wanders in your direction and you leave ashes by means of affection. in your wake- your stride - is kindling and in your mouth is gasoline and even though i have been lit before my flame roars for everything you will give me. you light me and then run away you walk by the light of the fire you leave and i just want you to explain how that's remotely fair to me. you watch me burn and shy away from the heat that you've instilled in me you act as if my flame threatens you when you are the wind that makes it carry you fan me and i grow bigger and you act shocked at the sight and i just want you to explain how that's even remotely right.

[wordsfordoves]

he makes you think you're lost so he can find you

[wordsfordoves]

i couldn’t tell you more

i hope you know that i could cry just thinking of the people i have turned away have pushed and left just because of what you did to me

when you said and said and saidandsaidandsaid

...

its unfair.

every voice in my head with a name and a face all yell four letter words over and over say i shouldn't but i should and i will and i Should

bc its unfair

and lying does nothing for me ive coated years and months and days and words in sugar just to stomach it coated others in sour dust to feign disgust to pucker and wince like its deserved for me

but its unfair

and crying cleans nothing of me or the experience nor do i want it to i stood for years and months and days and minutes of my own volition even as those voices yellled 4 letter words at me saying i shouldn't i just can't help but think... all the time i think...

how unfair

and i mean it. i mean it with my heart and soul with my being as it vibrates thinking of you and him and him and you and me with him and you with me when you had me. bc you had me.

its so unfair

nothing is MORE unfair than sitting here saying that it was all your fault.

"You broke me."

bc you didn't.

it's unfair to put the blame on you you did bad things but they don't make you bad and even making everybody angry isn't a sin or a sign of a monster i did everything and nothing right in your eyes. no not even that i did everything right and everything wrong in your eyes and that was the WORST part...

but i have nothing to say about it. i have everything to feel but nothing to say.

it's just unfair.

and maybe so were you. maybe you felt things about me that weren't fair but i can't change you.

never could no matter how much you tried to work yourself over knead at yourself to be malleable it never worked bc you did it with your nails and poked holes in yourself and asked me to fix you manage you into something more loveable as if the form that you were when we were first starting wasn't something that i was supremely interested in.

as if you were never enough and needs something more more even more i just... don't know what to tell you.

other than it's unfair.

[wordsfordoves]

and again...

if you lost a piece of yourself without me then you were never whole to begin with

if you lost your passion for things in my absence then the passion was never present

you cant have never stopped loving me when i know that you had never begun

you can’t list all the ways that i’ve hurt you and then liken me to the sun

if seeing me brings you pain be aware it’s because i brandish knives

they poke through me like spikes that only make themselves present to your tired eyes

i share them with you and only you now for you are who gave them to me

stemming from all of those horrible words you spat at me followed by the weakest of “sorries”

where sorry here means flagellating yourself until i sang to you praises

and heard from you all of the reasons no one but you would ever admire my graces

if you’ve never shared such a deep connection then, my darling, you’ve lived 21 years disconnected

because what we shared was not something that anyone would ever hope to be left with.

[wordsfordoves]

y’know i really don’t know what to tell you

i know you hate me growing up. i know you’re pissed i’m not a kid. i can tell you had a kid bc buying a doll isn’t as accepted when you’re 30. plus, a doll doesn’t cling to you like you wished i had when you sent me off to preschool or whatever bullshit you spin to my family and friends when you overthink about me enjoying college and you want to depress yourself.

i can tell you had a kid bc you wanted to relive whatever life you saw pass you by when you made all those decisions in high school. to be that popular girl again through me, pretty and perfect and popular. you set that on my shoulders bc i’m more neurotypical than the kid you had before me.

i can tell you were pissed when i didn’t want to wear make up. when i wasn’t really into skirts and dresses, thank. when i didn’t want to straighten my hair like you wanted me to (and how annoyed you were when you finally beat me down enough to feel i needed to straighten my hair to look presentable, but you had to do it for me bc i didn’t know how) when homecoming and prom came around and buying pretty, sparkly dresses was like a chore for me and like some kind of heaven for you. when I gravitated towards the old fashioned ones, the ones you said looked more like “the mother of the bride”. when i said i couldn’t wait to be the mother of the bride, then.

i can tell you had a kid but you wanted play dough instead. something malleable and lenient. something that didn’t talk back as much. something that would follow your lead. would paint their nails and their eyes and their lips like you did when you were my age. someone who all the boys wanted and craved, someone who would smile and squeal with you about boys so you could relive dating. so you could see me and daydream about who you could have married if you didn’t marry my father.

i can tell you wish i was still a kid. that i was still fun or... whatever.

but i can tell you something for sure... crying isn’t going to make anything more fun. think about that as you lay there with tears in your eyes, watching depressing movies and thinking about how you miss me being “fun”.

because what you’re really missing is missing out on the good person i’m becoming. what you’re really missing is missing the ability to take any positive credit for the good things about me.

i dunno... i kinda hope that sucks for you.

[wordsfordoves]

yes i still care about your well-being

maybe a little more than others

but not over my own.

and i guess what i’ve learned is that, to a certain extent, i shouldn’t care about anyone’s well-being over my own. i shouldn’t put anyone over myself. i shouldn’t care for someone else’s well-being more than i care for my own bc that would mean counting on someone else to take care of me.

that meant counting on you to take care of me.

and i know now that i couldn’t do that. shouldn’t have done that.

i have to worry about myself first and love myself first and i’m happy to learn this. to really, truly learn this. at least, to start to.

[wordsfordoves]

I shouldnt be so surprised that he finds me attractive

But there's something so different about what he said.... I dunno maybe it's silly. But he complimented my eyes. And he said he likes my hair even when I knew it was a rats nest. He held me to hia chest like he needed it. Like he was so grateful for it. There was something so.... present about all of it.

So doting. So affectionate. Something so attracted.

I really shouldn't be so surprised that some people find me attractive

I'm just not my type.

[wordsfordoves]

wow I just love making my mom cry by telling her it's really not right to be homophobic/support actively homophobic organizations ✌️