Writing

I care. 

I don’t know what it is with you From light to dark 

From cold to warm 

You’re an enigma 

I try and understand 

But just get further entangled 

In your words 

In your actions

But they mean nothing 

At least to you I suppose 

And yet I keep caring and loving 

Because that is who I am 

I care

Naively but incessantly 

I will not stop

No matter what is thrown at me  

I cannot stop caring or loving 

Not because you’re worth the work 

But because I believe my heart is 

Uncategorized

Deceiving. 

I constantly find myself overthinking 

My brain permanently set to high speed 

As if the light is yellow and I’m trying to cross the intersection 

I can’t seem to make it stop 

The little voice in my head 

Always yelling 

Yelling out my flaws and my insecurities 

I look in the mirror 

I open my mouth 

But nothing comes out 

Not even a whisper 

And yet 

My mind is exploding 

Bomb after bomb 

I can hear myself 

But on the outside

Nothing. 

Writing

Apathy. 

I always seem to care more 

I get angry at the small things

Sad when things don’t go as planned 

And happy when anyone else smiles 

But I guess you don’t…

You’re unwavering sense of apathy encapsulates your mind 

It has encroached upon your soul and eaten it to its core

And for that I am sorry 

I am sorry for the chances you have missed to feel sad

To feel mad 

To feel happy…

Because no matter how much it hurts sometimes

It’s better than never hurting at all  

Writing

Honesty. 

I feel like I’m in a state of confusion 

A foggy pair of glasses upon my nose 

Unable to completely clear the path ahead of me 

I don’t know what I want 

For fear has trailed my tracks 

It has become difficult to decipher truth 

They say honesty is the best policy

But honesty for whom? 

Honesty towards others or honesty towards yourself? 

To be true to yourself has become a chore 

We start to think that those who need to be pleasured the most are our peers 

But this is a lie 

Loving yourself is true honesty 

Seeing yourself in the light of your own eyes 

And never turning your back on your own freedom 
 

Writing

What is love? 

As I tuck Matthew into bed I hear him whisper something, almost inaudible. “Did you whisper something?” I say softly 

His big brown eyes look up at me as he says in his high pitched voice, “Mommy, what’s love?” 

I look upon him with confusion, “Where did you hear that word?” He jumps up from his bed and runs to his bookshelf and picks out his older sister’s Fairytale book. With his nimble fingers, he flips through the pages and finds his favorite story, Hercules. Amongst the pages he sees, he picks out one phrase that says, “People always do crazy things when they’re in love.” 

I smile at him and reach for the book and bring it over to my lap. He runs back to bed and sits, enthusiastically awaiting my response, “well, love is complex if you really think about it.” 

So many thoughts run throughout my mind and I realize…I’m speaking to a 5 year old. I reach over and pick Matthew up, I had an idea; I bring him to the living room and bring out a photo album from before Matthew was born. As I turn the pages I see so many pictures that display love, but the first that comes to mind is my wedding. 

I take out the picture and hand it to Matthew saying, “when I think if love I think of daddy and I getting married, love is sharing a part of your life with another person.” 

Matthew smiles and I pick him up again, I walk into the bathroom and face the mirror before us. 

“You know what I think love is?” I look at Matthew, “what!” Matthew laughs.

“Look at your reflection, that’s love; love is looking in the mirror and liking what you see and never forgetting how important you are to the world.” 

With a final pause, Matthew looks in the mirror at himself, and says with most certainty, 

“I love you.”