As the title says.
The truth is vast and fleeting
Humans are fundamentally vessels for endless change, we are beings living in cycles just as the world around us.
We change as the river grows moss and the tree leaves fall.
This being just as the blue sky is, we are full of changing truths.
What one day may leave one feeling authentic and at home in this life the next is like a sweater that doesn't quite sit right on your shoulders.
I love you so
I am in love with him.
I am in love with the way he fills me up in a way no one else could.
I am in love with the way he feels like a weight on my shoulders.
I am in love with the way he exists like a light in my chest.
I am in love with him because his name is written behind my eyelids.
My throat is scratched and sore from calling his name.
My hands are red and bruised from the nights we spent together.
My heart is heavy because I know, I know damn well, this isn't as it may appear in my tired eyes.
This isn't as it feels to my heart, on my deepest level this is not love.
Hes caused me far more days spent in the dark clouds than not.
He has his hands around my throat and I do not care to pull them off of me.
The loud one
I don't know when the river began flowing down this path but I am becoming aware that it did.
I used to tell everyone everything, I stepped on my own feet in the name of over authenticity.
I wanted to be understood so I plastered my truth on every bathroom wall, if only I knew nobody goes to the washroom to make a friend.
In my past I loved going out, I loved being the loud one, I enjoyed being everyone's best friend and the infamously known for being far too much.
In a way I wanted my truth to be understood before anyone would change it.
The difference
I am starting to see the difference between protection and worries of judgement when it comes to the way I hold myself.
Protection is letting only those who are a weight off my chest into my struggles.
Worries of judgment are wondering if those people will look at my mess and let out a loud crack of laughter.
Protection is carrying myself in a way that feels authentic yet safe.
Worries of judgement are keeping myself locked behind bars as a means of safety.
Protecting myself is not the same thing as false authenticity.
Judging myself is not a means to happiness.
YOU ARE READING
Letters from sixteen
PoetryA poetry book I wrote during periods of my life with many different facets. I wrote about happy moments, addiction, and trauma, the book becomes more depressing as it goes on. I choose the title "letters from sixteen" to capture how I wanted to capt...
