༓》 Yet So Far 《༓

~ Hey,

has it ever made you cry

that chocolate melts on your fingertips more than I?

I met a cutie who hates marshmallows

was told to chew gum and skip the kilos.

At dinner with love in your eyes

I get drained from speaking wise.

You can't reach my heart with the miles between

Who I am and who I wish to be.

Confident girls will make me cry.

Fire isn't just a word I spell,

It's my inner conflicts' hell.

I hear the waterfall

In a pipe inside the wall.

Wrap my skinny arms around the pillow.

I'm glad tears don't glow.

Heard him once say:

"Not every girl is a chocolate bar"

I thought he was telling me not to eat the cookie in the jar.

Took a shot of something strong,

yet didn't stop me from doing wrong.

Table lamps and thick covers,

I thought I had recovered

but my soul still suffers.

Hands hold onto the ceramic tight

as my toes curl and my head spins

letting my stomach empties its sins.

For a moment I am empty and hollow

and my soul feels so shallow.

'Not every girl is a chocolate bar'

He wanted me to be stronger.

Happiness is temporary;

I want a dose of the real thing.

I heard a girl laugh from the other side of the wall,

and her laugh is a reminder call.

I lost a love so real,

to die for more.

Nineteen, holding the scissors to his silky hair for every fight

to remind himself violence feels ugly.

He loved his hair though

and I loved him.

Some of what we love we use to punish ourselves.

Before he left, he told me I had taught him something:

'violence against one's self looks even uglier'

I put a hand on my heart

the other against the wall.

Happiness so close yet so far.

I now understand how much walls can hide;

how strongly they separate:

the past from the present

or the present from the future?

To find the peace in 'ever after',

to enjoy such laughter,

starts with the love you already have

not the one you want to gather.

Drag a towel on the floor

with the numbness I wore.

Rub the goosebumps off my skin,

slide my thin under the sink

counting one more sin.

While my head spins with a heavy feeling

I pray that this is the darkest before the dawn,

and sing my childhood song.

'You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again...'

-John Denver: Annie's Song

.self care.