After believing you
Won’t be enough
Is like breathing
Heavily just to
Realize you’re alive.
Just do it—
Connect your dreams
With your life
As a perfect simile.
“To The Loveless” by Megan Nicole Postell Lowe
To the loveless, from the loving
To the dead, from the living—
To death, from life
To wrong, from right
From day, to night.
I wish you would allow me to see you. I always present as see-through, to make you feel more comfortable—
I see you anyway, but you don’t let me.
You put up a fuss,
You torment my effort.
You don’t live.
You won’t give.
How long do you imagine me and my love will be content here?
How long will you not allow yourself to be loved?
So let go of
“Welcome to: Recovery”
Unwilling to interweave
New opportunities with new people.
Just new people,
and what I’ve known.
Love will never leave you lonely
Even if you are alone;
Reset the mind and quickly you’ll
Find a heart to call home.
She is beautiful, she is wonderful,
When will her eyes let her see?
Her eyes are set on, what they told her before,
Before she blossomed at fourteen.
Adolescence and young adulthood
She grew weary of who she was, fighting what she knew and what she didn’t—
She tried to overcome, and
Would woefully jump the gun,
And bearing false witness.
Her twenties came and went—
Territory for disappointments, and lack,
Once she hit 32, she was on track to get it back.
She never gave up,
She walked in the running—
And her tears sometimes carried her;
God carried her—-stunning.
She was found to be okay
And began to thrive at 35.
By 40 she basked in the joy she found
Once she realized, that time
Is just a vapor.
And we will never get it back.
People will always talk, and
Some might always lack.
But she kept pushing,
And pushing, and believing—
She found herself worthy
Long before she held value,
Which was prior to her breathing.
I wish things didn’t have to be this way,
But these boundaries just get in the way
Of you presenting me with just anything.
I used to accept that,
I used to be that.
And I received anything from anyone—
which is not as sexy as it sounds.
Long after my peers were walking, running, climbing;
I took my time out of anxiety, cautiousness, or fear,
And, well, I do love you,
But I’ve come too far to allow you to love me how you see fit.
I wanted to love you, but
I was not desperate for love in return;
I’m no longer desperate.
I no longer accept anything from anyone,
I would rather wait for something from that special someone.
I would rather, be lonely, than accepting of generally prescribed treatment.
I’ve known better for a while—so,
Now it’s time to do better.
Growing up is tough
Especially, with the absence of guidance;
The real world is gruesome-
And there is no hiding.
Learning on the fly
Becoming tougher by
Way of the night,
We grow to know preparation
To offset fight or flight.
We grow through the struggle,
Which heightens our senses;
We speak a bit slower
Because we know the power in a sentence.
We come to realize
Purpose is more worthy than gold,
And we refuse to die
With any part of our story left untold.
I wanna go back to how it was…
Before the disagreements, the disrespect, the arguments—
I want to go back to the time we met
and we caught each other
As we fell—
Deeper and deeper.
Back before it pained me when we were apart. Back to
The beginning of our forever,
Of what we wanted to be our last forever, together.
Before the feelings. Before our dawn-ending-evenings,
Before our first five hour conversation;
Before the exploration.
As the pain of the sever erodes my ability to trust and my heart
and my soul, and my desire,
I understand that it is better to love and to have lost
Than to never have loved at all.
Unlived and, still,
Looking and finding,
That the past behind me
Held belated beauty;
I was so anxious to prove
Running and turning,
From old knowledge, unlearning,
Discomfort in fear;
As I turn forward, again and
At it again.
My emotions have fallen
Just out of my reach—again.
My love has escaped my mind
For a ‘friend.
My heart has vacated my chest—
Where is it?
It never reached it’s destination
Much too eager for the next trip.
So it laps around the sun
Another year alone, in
The cavity of my chest.