Not Enough

It’s hard to come to grips that you aren’t right for someone, that your love isn’t enough. That all the sacrifices you made, the struggles that you went through don’t add up for them. It’s hard to take in that when you accepted it wouldn’t work and you were ready to move on, and didn’t feel the pain of the break up anymore; they came back, and you let them. Now to be told they don’t feel the emotions that they need to from you.

Because I remember, how you broke me into the smallest pieces glass can manage to be broken, and I built a new casing. I remember how hard it was to forgive and not be bitter, or not hold grudges against you. I remember fighting for a love I had never felt, and didn’t know if I would feel again, just to be pushed aside; as if I meant nothing. It’s hard to accept. That while vulnerability and tears are demanded to be shared from me, that none were shown when the shoe was on the other foot. Where was the fight from you? You claimed space was what I needed, but it was never on the list of things I asked for. In fact, it was exactly what I demanded not to have; but it’s all you gave nonetheless.

Still, I’m not enough



I handed him the shovel, build us a foundation, I’ll stand with you forever, make it sturdy, give us a fighting chance.

Opened my eyes, to find darkness, trapped beneath the potential, the hope; dreams.

Screamed, lost my breath, traces of blood in the cover, trying to fight my way out, but potential adds more weight, tells me to give it more time, it’s almost ready.

Gasped trying to wait and not die, buried beneath the very freedom I sought. Another whisper, “I am here”. A different voice, the weight begins to shift.

Imagined potential and hope created the dream I’d always wanted. I listened to the hiss of air as I got closer to the surface.

Kicked away the cover, nails scarred into the wood, the ground drops, nothing lands above me. Another kind of darkness surrounds me.

I called for you, where have you gone, lying on the ground, skeletal remains, a body that I once loved, eyes blinded, defeat drooling from lips I once feigned to kiss.

I tried.

I held on to you, but heard the whisper, “you’re sinking, who will you be, if you lose yourself again”

I let you go, my arms stripped, yours filling with stolen flesh, stolen life, I crawled from you, ran my hands over our plot, found the shovel; removed the dirt from my box.

Rolled you in, hands burning at every touch, I took the cover and nailed it shut. The mewling tore me to pieces, but I knew it was you or it was me. You gave up, I knew I couldn’t. My arms rose and fell until the cover couldn’t be seen. A eulogy was all I had left, tears surged from me, knees betrayed me, hands forsook me.

I dug, screamed I would never let you go, your roots took hold of my legs, your poison already seeped and birthed from the earth to remind me I belong buried, hidden from the sun. A whisper, “how long before you truly learn; a dead man does nothing but kill a live woman, who will you be?”. But,

I can’t let you go, even as I watch the ground make room for me, I feel the pressure around my thighs. A yell, “who will you be?”, a hand reaches down to me.

I hear your cries.

I see a whispers hand, light pours from every fingertip. My wounds begin to heal, the pain lessens, tears slow, I feel the poison draining from my soul.

I touch a whisper, no longer a voice, a being, like a thread pushing through the head of a needle, the light travels within me. The edge of the plot in sight, the cries of desperation slight. Sand beneath my feet, the light now surrounding me.

I look over my should, release a sigh of relief.

I could breathe.


Those days were Heaven, it usually is when

we’re in the same space, but you

leave, I move, the pages


I remember before, tainting the

now, exhausting forgiveness when it

could be replenished, amidst feelings of

neglect and being misunderstood

Just say what it is,

not what you should.

Last Night

I Couldn’t breathe

It felt like it lasted a long time, but it was only a minute or so

Thought about asking for help

Figured by the time someone got to me, I’d be dead anyway

Might as well just see if the moment passes

It did

I wonder

if I spoke to you the way you spoke to me, how disrespectful would I be?

how you could reply with an answer, that fell short of the question and expected me not to change the lens that I view you with

what world you live in that I would bow to your rudeness and not take note to the clueless manipulations you think you’ve been able to spin

how loud I will laugh when you realize, you continue to help me become free again.

Moments of Growth

A lot of people talk about how they have it all together, how they don’t need to change anything about themselves or grow up. Me, I am the exact opposite! I mess up a lot, I overreact, I have a terrible temper, my emotions get the better of me, my logic gets the better of me and I’m too cold, I am nowhere near perfect, and I absolutely appreciate that about myself. Not the imperfection, but the fact that even though it hurts and burns to admit my faults, or take criticism, I CAN DO IT! Today I had a great opportunity to work on my attitude, my inability to let things go when people piss me off, allowing other people to determine my mood, overthinking and stressing myself out, and responding negatively/arguing/getting disrespectful to someone who upsets me. These ALL came into question today after I received an unnecessary, petty, and childish text. I immediately got pissed off. No question about it. All of the things this person had been doing lately that had been upsetting me all started to come to mind, and I immediately wanted to throw it in his face. BUT, I knew once I calmed down, I would be mad, disappointed and even ashamed of myself for blowing up like that, so instead I just let him know I didn’t need the added bs. He, of course, responded the way I knew he would, so I kept it moving and discontinued the conversation after making it clear he was wrong. Where I messed up, getting mad in the first place. I should have asked if he was serious or if he was joking. Albeit it’s not a funny joke first thing in the am when you’re stressed, that still didn’t give me the right to just assume he was being a butthole. I also shouldn’t have CARRIED that anger with me. I immediately should have checked my attitude at the door when I left for work. Thankfully, I have at least learned to ask for help! I hit up my support system and they got RIGHT to praying for me, telling me STRONGLY to take command of my day, reminding me of good qualities I have that I need to use to correct my behavior, and just being SUPPORTIVE. I didn’t like some of the reprimands, but I took it, and I immediately began to adjust. Not because I wanted to or it was easy, but because in order for me to improve I HAVE TO DO THINGS DIFFERENTLY!

I say all this to say, STOP BSING AND CHANGE. It doesn’t take weeks, months, years to change, or grow. It takes split-second decisions to do things differently than you normally would. It takes you acknowledging you messed up and doing what you need to do to fix your part, and make sure to be mindful the next time an opportunity arises (because they will continue to arise).  Change is NOT hard to do, it is hard to KEEP. It takes nothing but one decision to get it started! Because I am telling you, it will greatly benefit your life in the long and short run. If I had disrespected him, gotten belligerent, thrown those things in his face, I could have really damaged our friendship. If I had continued to carry that rage I would have made MORE poor decisions and messed my day up further. We have to step up and take responsibility for the things we do guys.


You remind me of my father, not in a good way.

You remind me of the ice that sets in when he makes a mistake; no flexibility, no desire to change.

You remind me of

the times he called me stupid, and she stood by and watched my face crumble in pain, yet made no move to console me, reaffirm me; love me.

the few times he said he loved me, but when it mattered he hurt me more instead of helping me heal.

the times he realized he was wrong, but never apologized.

You mostly remind me of the wall I never learned to get through.

of love half given, half shown, never fought for.

I wanted you to remind me of anyone but him.

Today’s Pain, Tomorrow’s Blooming Flower

I feel like a lot of things are out of my control. Things that I want complete control over. And while I am aware that total control is a fallacy, my life has functioned thus far with me being able to steer at least a few things.

I was on vacation for about a week and in that time – the lives of the people closest to me have ben upturned, and I was nowhere to be found in terms of support. More than anything, this is eating me up. I feel helpless in a way that I haven’t in a long time. I would like to say I’m handling it well, but I’ve done nothing but cry all day.

I know I want to grow – I want to be a better person, but I also would like for all the hardships to not happen at one time. I want a break between getting my heart broken, cutting people off, and seeing people who say they love me utterly disappoint and abandon me. I want a moment to just be happy beyond a week of escape through paradise. And I want the people around me to have the same. I want them to have a break – I want them to be happy, and right now – this isn’t the case. A lot of my framily is suffering in the worst ways, and I want to fix it all. I want to suck it up in for them and make it better, and I can’t. I can’t do anything, and that is debilitating.

But…because there is always a but!

I know it will get better. Life is funny that way. We go through these trying moments, seasons, and phases that feel impossible, and every single time we make it out, things seem so much more feasible and we are that much more powerful. Not because we almost didn’t make it, not because we faltered, and even fell; but because we saw it through – highs and lows – to the end and we made it. So while my tears today seem plentiful, a flower in me will bloom because of it.

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