2-13-22
I thought this year would be different. I was supposed to be happy. I wasn't supposed be lying on my friends couch bawling my eyes out-again. That I wouldn't be sick and tired-again. My hair wouldn't be a rats nest-again. My heart wouldn't be swollen and bleeding...again.
Tomorrow is the 14th. Today is supposed to be my lucky day. There is nothing special about this day or tomorrow.
But why do I have to be held? Why do I keep thinking that I could be in the first place? Maybe it's because I keep getting told I should be by men who can't. By men who don't want what's left of me..
Let me ask you... if you caught me...would you keep me? Would you keep me safe? Would you keep me yours?
This year was supposed to be different. But it's me who has become unrecognizable.
YOU ARE READING
Just Below the Surface (January to February 2022)
PoesíaPoems and prose from the first two months of 2022. Ive also included a bonus poem from 2021 at the end.
