every moment you ever told me,
every time you suggested.
that I would never be perfect the way I am
ground me into the dirt,
swelled and grew,
poked, scratched, scared and burned.
now no matter what I see before me,
it will never be enough.
my favorite function of our love
is that the desperate pit of loneliness
the crawling spikes of self-hatred
that traveled up my spine and stabbed my heart
has disappeared in the strike of the moment
that i laid eyes on you.
there are messages
typed out and never sent
an emotional affair
that is played out in my head
like a teenageish secret all my own