Halfway There

When we talk,
disconnect dangles on the end of every word.
The conversations aren’t forced, 
but they are definitely fleeting, 
and pierced with potential that will never be fulfilled.

When I think of you, my visions are skewed. 
My memories used to play cinematically,
and I would fixate on that imagery as if my life depended on it. 

Now, they’re bits and pieces of scenes I vaguely recall being in.
Flashbacks of us kissing are interrupted by the arguing,
and it’s not long before the tears take center stage.

You were what I wanted,
but you were rarely what I needed. 
I tried to bury your flaws underneath the moments
where we stood a fighting chance. 

These days I’m growing closer to the version of me
that does just fine without you. 
When you look at my Instagram,
I wonder what goes through your head.

I’ve forgotten what you smell like,
and I’ve become foreign to your touch. 
How beautiful it is to know,
I can’t hold on to what I can’t feel.

My love for you stretches to the end of time,
but I don’t like you, not one bit.
You treat me like I’m unworthy of respect,
but loathe the idea of us becoming total strangers. 
Yet even with our history,
we’re already halfway there. 

written December 30, 2019.

Do The Right Thing

I wasn’t thinking about you 
until you reached out to me.
Our last conversation took me to a place 
I didn’t think I’d go.  

You were the first man I had an authentic connection with.
You checked all of the boxes. 
You were a walking, talking dream. 

Out of all of the memories that come to mind,
there is one that stings the most. 
It has nothing to do with me;
it was the moment I realized you had proposed 
to her. 

I remember looking at that picture of you on bended knee,
followed by the one of you holding her as she cried onto your chest,
and I wanted to know:

Were you really happy?
Were you really sure?
Did she make you feel the ways that I did?

If you moving on affected me to this degree,
surely you must’ve thought about me along the way. 
I was floored when only a few weeks after,
I discovered that you did; that you do.

You know I’m sorry. 
You know I’m here for you, always.
You’re unhappy, but you don’t want to hurt her. 
There are variables you have to consider
that would never cross my mind, because they don’t need to.

I never told you that you were the first man I could see myself with.
We fit in a way that was more than I could fathom.
I never told you because I wasn’t ready to do anything about it.
I never told you because I was careless, and selfish, and cold. 

I don’t want to turn back the hands of time;
there is no need to. 
I don’t live with regret.
I don’t compete with fate.

I may wonder, or fantasize, or reminisce,
but I acknowledge the barrier between us. 
I set boundaries, but do they really matter?
Because like you said the other day:
Attraction + chemistry + history is a dangerous thing. 

I don’t know her, but I respect her,
and I want what’s best for you, even if it doesn’t feel good.
I understand that means I may never see you again. 
I understand that means there are a lot of talks we will never get to have.
I know you have questions you are withholding from me,
but I suppose it’s better that way. 

Out of sight isn’t out mind.
Out of sight doesn’t make your marriage stronger, either.
But I will stay here, and you will remain there. 
It’s not about desire anymore.
It’s about doing what’s right. 

written October 1, 2019.

I Know

I have a lot to say,
but can only muster a portion.
I understand what’s happened,
it’s just difficult to explain it all.

When you were here,
being off and on was a self-inflicted struggle.
Now that you’re gone,
the real pain has set in.

Deleting every single text, email, picture,
and ridding myself of any other trace of your existence
was ideal at the time.
Now, I would do anything to get those items back.

Through it all,
my perception of you never changed.
I was well aware that your emotional ineptness
was only a fraction of who you are.
I just hate that who you are came at my expense.

What we had was flawed.
It was messy.
It was a wild ride of a romance that only we could make sense of.
It was an intricate language that only we knew how to speak.

I guess what I’m trying to say is…
I really loved you,
and I know that you really loved me.

written September 9, 2019.

From Your Former Babygirl

It’s remarkable how often my thoughts jump through hula hoops.
One day I’m reminiscing and wondering what could’ve been,
and the next day, you’re barely on my mind.

I realized that I miss you,
but not in the way that you might think.
It’s the familiarity of having you in my life that I mourn 
as opposed to your presence,
because you could be sitting right beside me,
and still be somewhere else.  

It is weird yet relieving to know that this is the end.
It took years to arrive to the point where I feel comfortable not being able to text, call, or see you.
When something happens worth mentioning,
it stings knowing that I can’t share it,
but fortunately the feeling is fleeting.

I know in my heart that if you remained in my life, 
it would be because my love for you was tied to instant gratification,
not because you were meant to be a permanent fixture. 

When I said I believe that you loved and cared for me
to the best of your ability, I meant it.
Just because we emote in different ways, doesn’t mean your feelings are invalid.
A large part of loving unconditionally, is being able to let go when you know it’s for the best.
So I want you to know that not only do I want what’s best for me,
I will always wish the best for you. 

The last time I wrote something along these lines,
I referred to myself as your “Babygirl” forever.
Things have changed since then.
That’s not who I am anymore, and I couldn’t stay her even if I tried.
Because one day, another man is going to call me all of the things you called me and then some, and one of them is “wife.” 

Loving you while being hurt by you,
has verified that just because people are seasonal,
doesn’t mean that they can’t serve as your mirror.
I often harped on your flaws,
but dealing with them also allowed me to see more of mine. 

So thank you, again:
For teaching me lessons through all that you did and all that you didn’t,
for leaving me with some pretty sweet memories,
and for being honest with me, no matter how much it hurt.
I hope you cherish our time together just as much as I do, but more importantly,
I hope that down the line, you choose the opposite of empty. 

written June 17, 2019.

All Pleasure, No Peace.

I’m only used to being loved halfway.
I don’t remember what it feels like to be poured in, to the brim,
spilling over because my heart cannot hold all that’s been given.
I’m only used to being touched as an object, not as their one and only.
Men have used sex as a form of entitlement,
which showed me they thought I was worth penetrating,
but not worth protecting.
They brought me pleasure, but couldn’t bring me peace.

written March 24, 2018.

Tired

I am probably more tired now,
than I have ever been.
It doesn’t consume me,
but it’s a constant reminder
that a woman like me
should never feel this way.

I’ve resigned from writing about you a million times over,
yet here I am again.
Instead of fighting the urge to spill the contents of my heart
onto pieces of paper,
I’ve continued to let them pour.

Still, I simply wish that my inclination to do so
fades away –
just like your love for me.

written May 11, 2019.

Babygirl

Let this be the last time that I look at you,
and the last time that my fingertips
trace the places
that yours used to roam.

I am grateful for every inch of our journey.
You were there for me through some of my most daunting moments.
You listened as I detailed the darkest parts of my pain,
and made sure that I would not let
its abyss swallow me whole.

You were the source of many smiles,
and the cause of many bloated bellies
from being wined and dined
all of those late nights in your home.

I’ll miss the laughter, and the singing,
and the dancing, and the cuddling.
I’ll miss the sweet splendor of how you
would sex me right to sleep,
just for me to wake up to the most delicate forehead kisses.

You were warmth, and humor, and savant, and style.
You were contradictory, and confusing, and hurtful, and proud.
You were so many things,
which is why I felt so many things,
and learned to be kinder to myself
as I unraveled your grip around my heart.

You complicated my most magnificent love,
and I’ve finally forgiven you for it.
My resentment has dissolved,
and the desire to see and speak to you
has finally gone away.

I am now okay
with not having you in my life anymore.
And although our time has come to an end,
my love for you has not.
Thank you, for everything.
Forever, your babygirl.

written January 1, 2019.

I Have To

It’s easier this way.
I’ll keep you in the dark for as long as I can,
but it will be your fault when I finally pull the trigger.
I could talk to you about things,
but I would just be reiterating what you already know.

I want to do everything but say goodbye,
but “everything” always comes back to bite me in the end.
We are take it or leave it.
We are all or nothing.
Always were.
Always will be.

written July 6, 2018.

3:00 AM

I used to like the pain,
now I want anything to numb it.
These days have passed by so quickly,
yet they seem to last so long.

I haven’t talked to you in quite some time now.
Finality has a weird kind of ring to it.
I can’t forget your smile,
but his has got me hooked.

No need for sorry - I’ve forgiven you already.
You’re out of sight, but remain at the edges of my mind.
You rest in regret, while I rest in relief.
I’ll be sure to send my love through silence.

written June 7, 2017.

Halfway

Sometimes, he would hurt me.
Sometimes, I would like it. 
Most times, I didn’t.
And when he would hold me,
it was because he wanted me held captive,
not because he cared.

When I cry, my tears are shed for the younger me,
who had hands in between her legs that didn’t belong there,
who was forced to trade in her childhood for maturation,
and became an adult long before she turned 18.

I don’t want you to wipe my slate clean,
in case you were wondering.
You can’t.
But I was hoping that I could start a new one with you. 
I could give you the love that you’ve been craving,
and you could render the kind that I’ve never received.

Can you do that?
Can you hold all of my broken pieces,
careful not to mix them with your own?
Can you cradle my heart without cutting your hands? 
Can you carry me when my feet are dragging so heavily,
that they begin to slow yours down too?

We understand each other in ways that our formers never could;
we adore the parts of ourselves that they didn’t want. 
Now, we’re presented an opportunity to become the type of people
that we never had.

So, what do you say?
Would you like to meet halfway? 
We deserve a “forever” too. 
I can’t make you whole,
but I’ll vow to make you better.
Just promise that by the time our ending arrives,
you will have done the same for me.

written March 10, 2017.

Six Months to Life

You ask me how I did it:
how I made an extremely difficult process look so easy.
You don’t know that it was excruciating from the start,
and that I’m nowhere near finished.

I had to remove the one person I wanted for the rest of my life,
from my life.
I had to detach myself from a part of my soul.
It started with one day, that turned into one week,
which turned into one month,
and before I knew it, I reached half of a year.

I haven’t coped,
I’ve just kept myself busy.
But those moments when I’m alone,
all of the memories rush to my head at once.

I want to tell him that my hands are sore from working such a long shift,
and that I’m coming over for chips and salsa.
I want to tell him all the good news about my day,
and how I’m evolving into the woman we both want me to become.

I may look like I’m okay, 
distancing myself from the one I love. 
But the truth is, in this sixth month,
I still want him,
just as much as I did on the day I decided to let him go.

written February 2, 2017.

The Game

I said that the last time would be the last time
on countless occasions. 
I keep giving and you keep taking,
because you’ll never say no.

You know what I’m worth, 
and you know what you’d be missing,
should I truly follow through with leaving you behind. 

But you don’t care.
So we play this little game
where I leave the ball in your court,
knowing that it’s really in mine,
as we wait for the clock to run out. 

And when it does,
don’t go wondering what happened.
There will be no space or opportunity
to make up for all we could’ve had.  

The love is there, 
but our intentions are completely different.
You play for ego,
and I play for keeps.

written December 12, 2016.

For the First Time

There was a time when I didn’t want anyone’s arms
around me but my own. 
The thought of a man embracing me one moment
just to leave me in the long run, caused me to become reclusive. 
Then came you.

When you touched me, 
you told a story. 
Your hands meeting my skin
served as the segue into my soul.

Every crease, dip and curve  
were points for marking. 
You kissed my scars and traced my stretch marks.
You knew that my temple was my territory,
but you never made me feel like an object
for wanting to see what was inside.

Looking back, 
I’m not resentful. 
Tearful, but not resentful. 
I miss those moments, 
when a tickle turned into love making, 
and how you’d hold me through the night.

I’m not mad at you,
because for the first time in my life, 
it wasn’t just sex.
You felt me beyond the physical. 
You wanted more than just a release. 
You poured into me,
and exchanged your love for mine.

written November 8, 2016.

Right Now

Right now, I am free.
I am not concerned about what we are
or what we aren’t,
but simply what I feel in this very moment. 
And in this moment, I feel light. 

My laughter stems from the depths of my soul
and spills out into your space.
It intoxicates you.  
It coerces you into endless smiles and holding of hands and sloppy kisses.
It enables you to look at me in all of the ways you usually hide.

In this moment, you aren’t working,
and I’m not growing anxious over emails that never come. 
We are simply being. 

Your energy gravitates toward mine,
and they have a fine time together. 
Now I know what it means when they say
“What’s real doesn’t have to be explained.”

written September 9, 2016.

The One Who Got Away

I’m supposed to be studying… 
I’m nervous. 
I’m scared. 
Normally I’d call you and explain why,
but that’s just not an option. 

I went from crying to you to crying over you.
I want to tell you that I miss you, 
but that’d be a waste of words. 
Today I have a final for that really hard class I told you about,
but I’m on the couch typing this poem. 

You always do that to me:
Overtake my thoughts. 
You invade my emotional space and diminish other things of importance.
I’ve got to get these problems right,
but I wish that I could make things right with you. 

And I hope that as I type this, 
you’re in your bed looking at the spot I used to lay. 
I hope that your arms and legs don’t feel the same
since mine aren’t tangled in between them. 

And maybe you feel just as dazed and out of place as I do. 
I sure hope so.
And maybe, for the first time, you know what it feels like
to have “the one who got away.”

written August 17, 2016.

First and Last

I’ve got THC in my lungs
and Hennessy in my heart. 
My eyes are wet from wondering if tonight will be our last. 
I like it best this way.

I cling to you - a sign that I’m weary.
I kiss you, as if the moments to come will plant us a world apart. 
You ask me what’s wrong, 
and I respond by stripping down to skin.
Now is not the time to talk.

I close my eyes and whimper as you have your way with me. 
You fuck me like you already miss me.  
You make love to me like you care.

I grow closer towards my climax as you pick up the pace. 
You’re hurting me, but pain is passion after all.
My eyes search yours, and before I open my mouth,
“I love you” filters into my ears.

My lips part in awe,
and in a fraction of a second, my hands are caressing your face
as your kisses smother my cries. 
I’m hungry for you.

For the first time ever, you fill me up as you finish,
and a pool of pleasure collects underneath me. 
You collapse onto me and your body rests on top of mine.

I savor this newfound splendor, 
knowing that we were always a game of risks. 
Yet I remain silent as reality sets in.
This is no happy ending, this is a goodbye.

written August 11, 2016.

A Lifetime Kind of Love

I enter another a dimension as you make your way inside of me.
I don’t travel down old roads but I like the way this one feels. 
You touch me in places you were first acquainted with so many moons ago. 
It’s amazing how my body can’t help but make magic with yours.

We didn’t miss a beat,
but it’s clear that we missed each other,
and I’m sorry that for all of those months
I hid myself from you. 
I’ll exchange my scars for yours
if you’re willing to show me all of the places that the pain still resides. 
They say you can’t get healing from the one who hurt you, 
but I’m here to prove them wrong.

The crazy thing about our story,
is that neither one of us wanted it to exist.
Ink spewing from the same fountain,
as we fight for the narrative’s control. 
There are people from our past, and even more in our present,
who will try to disrupt our fluidity
to keep us from completing what our hearts have started. 
I won’t fight with them, but I’ll fight for you.

Let down your guard so that the plot strengthens instead of thickens. 
Allow me to water the soil that we stand on,
so that it becomes enriched with what we have to offer one another.
Let life take its course and don’t give fear the permission to stop it.
It would be a tragedy if you put an end to what we’re meant to be.

I want to be your reason, not a season.
I want to be your lifetime, not a loss.
Love me until your cup runneth over.
Love me until all you can do is love me some more.
Love me until it changes you for the better.
Love me until there’s no room for goodbye.

written August 7, 2016.

Relapse

What number am I on?
My face is starting to flush
and my hands are starting to wander.
I said that last time would be the last time,
but I don’t care to keep my word.

I see you looking at my thighs.
Would you like to cum in between them?
Won’t you tell me that you missed me
while you stroke my fears away?

You know that I want you,
but you don’t know that I crave you.
You don’t realize how I view you,
or that I want to make you mine. 

I wore the leggings you like – 
the ones that fit just right. 
I’m waiting for the moment when you start to take them off. 

I don’t want to say it.
I’m silently begging you not to make me. 
You’re serving me all this liquor,
but I’m just here for flesh. 

written July 25, 2016.

Just a Dream

I miss you.
I miss your smell,
and pressing my mouth against your
neck even if it’s not to kiss you. 
I miss tickling you with my nose.

I miss singing in your kitchen 
and watching in awe as you rap.
I miss dancing with you all over the house. 
I miss seeing the way you smile when I say something outlandish,
or when I milly rock for no reason.

You are sexy in so many ways,
even when you’re sleeping.
I just want to be wrapped up in your arms
every second of every day.

I dream of a night where we go into the city,
and get drunk and roam the streets with no destination in mind.
Your lips finally meet mine and you tell me that you love me 
as I become undone. 

We get a hotel since 5 am isn’t as far away as it feels.
As you lay me down,
your eyes behold me in a way I’ve never witnessed before. 
They don’t look at me like they want me for the awaiting moments of ecstasy,
they look at me like they want me for life.

written July 20, 2016.