April. Twenty.

The needles pinched behind my ears,
stagnation,
phlegm,
bloody words,
mixed emotion.

I tremble as I write,
truths.

When I call you,
it's like nothing has changed.

I need change.

We say, you have healed this shattered heart,
but no,

I healed this shattered heart.

You held me,
as I glued the pieces,

but I turned on the hot glue gun and went to work.

You did not.

You do not know what I went through, you don't ask me about it,
you don't really ask me about much,
ever.

So I keep talking to fill the spaces,
and silence is nice,
and your words would be refreshing, if ever they learned how to play in the light,
but they won't,
for a very long time,
and I don't wait for miracles.

It's waiting for sunrise at sunset,
and we might just be more opposite than alike,
even though we both like nice things and laugh a lot,
together.

Wondering,
when,
you will make me a priority...
and also so excited for your growth,
and change,
and so understanding of why
you are less involved.

It doesn't seem like a worthy excuse though,
and I'm lingering on it,
since I see your habits.

and you could call me
or something
like that,

but like I said before,
nobody uses the call button anymore,

and I am craving a fucking good tiki drink,
but nobody reads what I love anyways,

so would you know?


craving more,
craving something that is so beautiful I can't even imagine,
and then knowing that it will be like that someday makes it all feel a little less pressured filled,
since I am here,
so beautiful,
so loved,
so full,

in this moment.

so stop with the worry and the mind games,
since life doesn't work that way,
it works in alignment in balance,
and I need to balance myself,

as I am,

this week,

knowing that even if it all toppled  I could still walk straight on this tightrope, and I'll never fall again like I did, because I know what I need,

and I know what my heart looks like broken,

and even more-so,
what it looks like whole!