Imperfect

I’m not pretty when I cry:
No slow and somber tears;
My nose is never dry.
Just a pouring out of all my fears,
Or so I stutteringly try;
And it turns out, for all my preening
I’m just a human being
And it’s not worth the effort I make to try to lie.

Folly

My verse affords me not
The magic of transformation;
Bland are all my thoughts,
And every word’s a shallow imitation:
A fine echo of a troubled mind;
One confused, a little tired,
Craving a warmth it cannot hope to find —
Will not hope to find, for such is mired
In mistakes that scar like fire,
And to guard against with cold
Is the only defense this child knows
To keep from growing old.

Letter to Myself…

Dear… Well, you.

So, you’ve been having a weird time lately. You had a boyfriend. For like a week. Realized you fell short of your own ideals, and weren’t actually ready for that kind of relationship. Yes: it turns out that you’re really not so different from everyone else. You, too, act out in anger and frustration. You, too, can let fear and loneliness drive you.

But that’s not such a terrible realization.

You got to talk to your sister because of it. She called you out, and you were glad of it. You get so tired of the hiding; It’s nice to speak honestly about things. You even talked with Mom a little. And you got to spend a little time with someone outside your family. You expected all of the worst things when you realized what you had to tell him; but he actually surprised you. Perhaps he’ll continue to. Perhaps not. But you’re thankful anyway.

It made you think of things that make you cry; Friendships lost because of your own foolishness. It happened so slow and quiet. They still live right next door, and yet they feel a world away. How can you ask their forgiveness? How can you pretend you’re anything more than a wreck of a person? You don’t feel you can. You’ve given what signals you know how to, in the past, hoping that maybe they’ll catch on and reach back. But they have their own lives. You’re trying to accept that. You wonder if maybe you should just get over it and move on. But they’re still like family to you.

Your sister has said that everyone has their own lives, and that yours and theirs aren’t mutually exclusive. Believing that can be hard. There’s still the thought that you’re more than you think you are — that you’re actually worse. Like maybe you’re a serial killer in the making. You’re pretty sure you’ve scared your sister with comments like that before; With doubts in your own sanity, nonchalant remarks of things you worry might be serious. But you’re not sure what else to do.

But come, if the past month or two has taught you anything, it’s that you need to learn to look beyond all the doom and gloom. You’re capable of more than you realize. And while staying in your head may seem safer, what’s in your head will never surprise you. You will always be alone.

And as it turns out, you don’t like that so much.

So, with much love
–You