i can’t believe that we are here.

the higher the climb, the harder the fall.

i’m mad.

i’m mad at you. i’m mad at me.

i’m mad that i let you in. i’m mad that i thought you were different. i’m mad that i trusted that you wouldn’t hurt me; you would handle me with care.

i’m mad that my dreams were filled with you. i’m mad that i let my hopes have you.

i’m mad that you gave up. i’m mad that you made me the enemy. i’m mad that you can’t fight, though maybe it’s just because you won’t.

i didn’t teach you to know me.


my fabric is flimsy, my hoop is small — i taught myself.

my thread is skinny, the colors all clash — i’m from different places.

my design is off center — i didn’t start at the beginning.

my stitches are jagged — i’m still learning.


i just want to be seen.

i only need to be heard.


but you’ve retreated, away from my encroach.

my eyes ache — i’ve been trying to find you.

my throat throbs — i’ve been calling you.

my arms faint — i’ve been reaching for you.


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