speak softly

my voice must be too brittle

i dressed myself in your favorite embellishments.
i pinned brooches that made your eyes glimmer,
embedded your favorite songs into the static between our phones.

it was never about me.

but i can't help but to think maybe it was-
that my breath beside you cluttered your bed.
that my dancing took too many steps away from your own.
that the words i've written for you rot in a box in my garage because you willed it.

my head buzzes at the sight of you.
each moment i see a different being,
a different slide of film.

i don't know what you wanted, but i know it wasn't me.

and i can live with that.
i can live with a changed mind.
but i can't bear the thought of my intimacy being trivial in the eyes of another.
i can't stand the hand swipes,
the recoil.
it winds me to think that every moment i thought cosmic-
was a moment wasted in your eyes.

so now i embellish my coats with tender hands.
now i tread carefully in my image.
now i accept i'm more unsure of where and who i belong with- now more than ever.
i'll make space for me, if no one else can.
i'll litter my mail box with notes of confession.
i'll paint my face with my favorite glitters, gems,
and garnishes-
carve my cheeks to my liking.
the space around me must become free for me to dance in circles until my head spins-

because i can't keep waiting for another hand,
another waltz,
another word spent towards an ear that has already closed itself off to my voice.