A Love Letter from the Girls Who Feel Everything
Page 2
She’s a summer soul trapped
inside a winter’s freeze.
Misplaced Warmth
— B
Timing,
and Distance.
Friends,
or enemies,
depending
which lover
you ask.
Gray Area
— K
I missed him before he even left.
When I inhaled your perfume as he kissed my neck.
I loved him in part because he said he loved me too.
But how could he love me,
when his scent smells like you?
Smells Like You
— B
It was sick, really, the way I felt when he told me he couldn’t love me. After months of being together, of sharing mind, body, and soul, he couldn’t love me. And I should have been angry, and I should have been glad to be rid of him, but I was only sad. I was only hurt because I felt it was my fault. I’m not good enough, not interesting enough, not sexy enough.
I’m not enough for him.
One day he will love someone easily,
and she is not me.
It was sick, because it is such a privilege to be loved by me, to capture my heart the way he did, and yet I let him make me feel as if it was my fault he threw it away, like it was the diamond that was stupid instead of the diver who passed it up for rocks, instead.
Diamond
— K
I’m wild.
Erratic.
My hair doesn’t always get brushed.
At times getting dressed is a chore.
I get sparks of inspiration.
Sometimes I don’t sleep for days.
I work until my eyes cry,
and my chest burns.
I try to perfect imperfections.
Yet beside me he lays still.
Calm as can be.
He doesn’t judge.
He doesn’t scold.
He embraces my wilderness.
He remains unmoved by the beast within me.
Unmoved
— B
Love me, she begged.
I can’t, he lied.
Why, she asked.
His silence was her only answer.
Answer Me
— K
When you look at me
you’ll see that I am the light
that ignites my own way.
Light
— B
Yesterday it didn’t exist.
Tomorrow it may be gone.
Yet in this moment,
we loved.
Moments
— B
It took me a long time, too long perhaps, to realize that I was strong enough to demand what I deserve. And once I did, once I learned the power of walking away when what I needed could not be given, I found that more peace comes from the pain of letting go than the ease of holding on.
Power
— K
Dreams filled her soul
like water fills the river —
gently
with the patience to
carve mountains
and the strength
to break levies.
Dreams
— K
If you knew how strong you were,
you’d never
doubt your heartbeats.
If You Knew
— B
I’m drunk
from your lips,
from your hips,
from the way you moan my name.
I’d forgotten what reality is as you stumble
through my dreams.
I’d forgotten to take a breath as you claim
my body as your masterpiece.
Pour another,
and let me show you
the way my skin feels
against your face.
Drunken Orgasm
— B
You are the moon and I the sun,
forever chasing.
We cannot be together without
one of us erasing
what truths lie within, of feelings and
thoughts untold.
Where your desire for love is shadowed,
mine is bright and bold.
So as you disappear again, leaving with
the dawn,
I ask myself which is worse: letting go,
or holding on?
Which is Worse
— K
Love me slowly.
Breathe me in.
Tell me I’m more
than all my worst sins.
How to Love the Scars
— B
I like doing things for the first time. I like that buzz, the excitement, the uncertainty. I like having expectations and love even more when they don’t live up to reality. I like living life as if no two days are allowed to be the same.
My Favorite Things
— K
Oh, sweet love, can’t you see?
It’s not love if he only whispers
the words
when he’s bent
between your knees.
Sweet Love
— B
In the middle of the night she awakened feeling shame
for all of the self-doubt
she fed herself each day.
She lay in the darkness
and imagined the light.
A breath, she took.
She closed her eyes.
Because no matter what
morning is promised
after every hard night.
Middle of the Night
— B
I’m not sad that I’ve lost you,
because the truth is I never did.
You’re still here,
in my heart,
in my mind,
shaping the woman I’ll be
when all the scars have healed.
Still Here
— K
I thought I knew what pain was,
but then you held me.
In my mind, so many thoughts came to life in that moment —
How warm.
How safe.
How lovely.
You pressed a kiss to my forehead, a sigh leaving your lips as you did, one that I read as content, but you breathed as concern.
All you were thinking in that moment was,
“How much longer until I can leave?”
And I was there, too
in your arms
counting a hundred reasons you should stay.
In Your Arms
— K
The mask you wear each day
only scars you.
Mask
— B
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for distracting you, my shoulders too bare, my thighs too exposed in these shorts.
I’m sorry for speaking too loud, my words ugly with truth, your ears sensitive from ignorance.
I’m sorry for chasing my dream, how selfish of me, to not ask for permission first.
I’m sorry for leaving you, how careless to stand on my own when you begged me to bend.
I’m sorry for proving you wrong, how embarrassing my smile is for you, I’m sure.
I’m sorry the flower you tried so long to drown bloomed anyway — that stem, once so fragile and weak, now roots dug deep.
I’m sorry that I was never sorry.
And that I never will be.
Sorry, Not Sorry
— K
When he makes you doubt yourself:
Your worth.
Your strength.
Your dreams.
Pack your bags and go.
Go
— B
One of the hardest lessons I have ever learned is that you can be the very best version of you, and still not be enough.
Lessons Learned
— K
Less fear
More love
Less confusion
More hope
Less heartbreak
More wholeness
Less you
More me
Less
— B
Walk away. No — run. Run from the things that do not serve you, the past that does not define you, the present that does not please you, and the people who do not value you. Trust me, peace is found in movement, in discovery, and the path is never-ending.
Run
— K
I used your name to
seal up the rips
in my heart.
I didn’t know temporary stitches could
so easily be torn apart.
Your Name
— B
I am not the cool girl,
the one who is easy to like,
easy to love,
easy to leave.
I am the girl with the wild eyes,
the roaming heart,
the free spirit.
The tighter you hold on,
the more I long to flee.
Cool Girl
— K
He tried to treat me like a peasant.
I knew I was nothing less than a queen.
I left his side.
It wasn’t a royal requirement
for a queen to have a king.
Royal
— B
Oh, silly boy. You must have mistaken her kindness for weakness, her love for a game, her heart for a toy. Until she walked away, a new scar on her skin and a smile on her face as she whispered, “Game over.”
Games
— K
Every sunrise
you’re allowed to
begin again.
Morning
— B
Kiss me
like the setting sun kisses the water
on the horizon —
slowly,
gently,
and then all-consuming,
all at once,
swallowing me whole,
leaving us
in a hot new night.
Kiss Me
— K
It is romantic
when lovers kiss with their eyes
and then with their hips.
Romance
— B
Defensive mode engages in 3...2...
All from a look
a question
a realization
of you.
3, 2, 1
— K
There will come a day
you’ll walk alone
and you’ll have to count your own
heartbeats.
Solo
— B
Those quiet nights when you hold me,
your heart beat under my ear,
your hands in my hair —
those are the times I hear it the loudest.
Those three words we haven’t said,
but both know to be true,
waiting in a beautiful suspension
to be spoken.
I Love You
— K
Her insecurities were as loud as day,
but his gentle embrace made the noise stay at bay.
Pause
— B
There comes a point in your life
when you realize you were always enough.
It was the rest of the world
that was lacking.
A Point
— B
I saw our mistake.
Where you saw sunshine,
I only felt rain.
Mistake
— B
I long for mornings
waking wrapped up
in you.
Hands between thighs,
tasting morning dew
Morning Dew
— K
It’s warm at night as the bodies fold.
Lust curls your toes,
feeding lies to your soul.
Yet when you wake up,
the bed’s always cold.
Warm
— B
How tragic it is
that in order to love myself
I have to turn my back
on loving you.
Tragic
— K
In the middle of the night
you’ll turn in your bed searching for him.
Longing. Craving. Begging.
Yet you’ll remember that the ghosts of the past are best kept buried away
because once morning comes their shadows always
burn.
Nightfall
— B
His eyes were the rope,
his kiss, the knot.
And the tree that I hang from,
grew from moments forgot.
The Hanging Tree
— K
We kissed in slow motion
and I allowed his lips to
l i n g e r.
Slow
— B
Before you,
Love was a noun.
It was flowers and titles,
pictures captured with true feelings somehow missed.
It was words screamed without intention,
promises made only to be broken.
It was a boy who treated a girl like nothing,
and a girl who allowed it.
After you,
Love is a verb.
It’s doors pulled open,
arms held tightly as tears fall freely.
It’s words whispered sweetly and genuinely,
brought to life by actions.
It’s a man who treats a woman like everything,
and a woman who cherishes it.
Before and After
— K
Where worries disappear and your hands find mine.
Let’s scroll around until the sun fades
and kiss the midnight sky with our dreams.
Walk with me.
The Walk
— B
I live for slow Sundays,
waking up under warm sheets
with your arms around me
my legs around you
our hearts wrapped up
in each other.
Sundays
— K
Still in my memories,
you’ll always exist.
Still
— B
She was a moth
and he, the flame,
beckoning her closer,
promising comfort
and warmth.
She fluttered just close enough
to let him think she was his,
but kept enough distance
to safely fly away.
Because she soared with singed wings
as a painful reminder
of how that flame
could burn.
Singed Wings
— K
You plus me equals
endless
possibilities.
Math
— B
I handed you my heart,
this bloody, bruised, barely pulsing thing,
and you held it reverently,
eyes wide with adoration.
You wanted it for your own,
you vowed to care for it,
and for the first time,
I believed someone finally would.
The Gift
— K
He makes it easy to fall in love.
When he holds my hand and squeezes it so gently.
When he holds my body and squeezes so tight.
When he’s quiet. When he’s loud.
When he kisses me hard and pins me to the ground.
When my head rests against his chest,
and his fingers softly massage my neck.
When he looks me in the eyes,
and gives me that tiny grin.
Oh, how that smile owns me.
When he falls apart,
and still lets me in.
It turns out bro
ken girls can fully be healed.
He’s living proof that true love is real.
He makes it easy.
Easy
— B
I fell for him in the unremarkable moments —
when he laughed a little too hard,
when he asked me which hat to wear,
when he sang a little off key,