salt.

she shows me how her eyes hold water
and tells me he is an ocean.

i ask her why she doesn’t sail away.

she sighs.
rubs salt between her thighs.
takes off her eyes and rests them by the window sill.

maybe the weather will change, she tells me.

the wind blows and blows
there is a salt hurricane in her little room.

somewhere, her cat cries and pees into the bundle of horoscopes
by the door.

i tell her people don’t change.
i tell her rubbing salt on herself won’t make him love you.
i tell her she is not a lighthouse and he is not a lost ship.

she gathers her cat, she opens her legs and says he will come.

leave, she says.
get out.

to love someone.

when you’ve loved tigers and sharks and wasps long enough

it’s hard to believe there are people who want to do right by you

you start reading braille and learning hand signs and foreign languages

because when you’ve heard more lies than truth, even his soft words

make you want to carve out a little space inside yourself and

decipher if it could ever be true.

you start stopping at traffic signls when they say go.

you leave behind words and explanations at the door.

you wait for the bite, the blinding pain, you wonder when it’ll strike.

you keep counting every second of laughter because- when will it end.

you live within fears.

and then one day you realize: snakes and tigers and wasps

have never killed you.  and you realize that you will always be okay

in the end; that no man could ever make you feel belittled and small

and hurt without your consent, and with time.

you realize too that sometimes the hand that promises would love you

means it.

you know that because in the middle of the night they still reach for you

and draw you in close. they fill the gaps. they hold you at your best and

at your worst and they tell you that fairytales sometimes do have happy endings

and you believe them.

love isn’t enough.

tell me, is love ever enough?

what are promises without commitments. what are whispers in the dark without a hand that holds you when you are blind. what are those shy glances, those smiles, the exhilaration of a kiss- only smoke signals promising nothing. you could love someone but never be blinded in such intoxication. he isn’t here to stay.

no, this isn’t me destroying your fairy tale. or asking you to wake up. this is me telling you that you are worthy too. and you are worthy of more than being settled, much more than comfort. find someone who loves you and stays. who never makes you question where you stand with him.

 

someone who loves you without inhibitions or fears.

because one thing that love makes us, is fearless and courageous. and in all this bravery, do not forget all the love you have forged for yourself. do not let yourself be a second choice, be someone he has to think about, do not be an option. you are more than that. always remember your worth.

 

because love will come and go, there will be others, but your self-respect, your worth- that’s there to stay. no one should make you sacrifice your values, no one should make you believe you are less than wonderful, and you should never ever let anyone treat you that way. it’s not love anymore is it, then.

go, run, unfold your own myth.

this is your story too.

<3.

 

letting go;

i am not writing sad poems about you anymore
there is a loveliness in letting go;

there is beauty in setting free something so wonderful as you

when you are out there with me only as a distant reminder
know i’ll always remember you, always wishing the best for you.
and when you are out there change as many lives as you can
the way you did with me.

i hope you meet a girl who makes you believe in love.
i hope you realize it is worth it.

i was wrong when i said love isn’t worth much because i loved you.
and believe me, it was worth it.

so i hope you find all the happiness in this world
and all the answers to the questions we’ve asked and i hope one day
we’d know if our lives turned out the way we dreamt.

send me a postcard sometime.

so when you go, close the door behind you, i’ll clear up this space
you left behind somehow. i’ll still write letters to you but
i probably wouldn’t have your address and you won’t have mine.

there is a loveliness in letting go, there is something beautiful
in freeing something as wonderful as you.

when it rains, i’ll always think of you.

-an excerpt.