My Secret


I don’t know what came over me the other night, but when I got off the phone with you I began to cry. I cried until I fell asleep like I was some baby who needed to soothe herself. And then I had a dream that you met my family.

I guess this goes to show that I’m confused and I’ve been this way since the first day I met you not too long ago. After our first date, I didn’t know what to think of you. You were a lot but I was intrigued. I was so intrigued I wanted to see you again and again until I realized this could be too much for me. You and I together could be a lot, a lot of bickering, a lot of stories, a lot of you and not enough of me, and a lot of confusion. But you continued to step up to the plate and open up to me. And for that, I thank you.

I’ve always been with the half-asses. The ones who showed me a good time until things started getting serious and then they slowly backed away until they were gone for good. The ones who talked to me about their life but never seemed to show me any of it. The ones who used my body as a toy for them to play with until a better version came out.

So I’ve always put one foot in the door and left the other one out, just in case. It wasn’t until last year when I put both feet through the doorway for someone. He ruined me after lying and cheating his way into my heart. And just when I was beginning to trust his true intentions he ran away and moved to my hometown. It was your typical heartbreak. I couldn’t eat, sleep, or go a day without thinking of him. And the worst part was, I couldn’t go home without seeing him and knowing he had moved on. I couldn’t go to the town that I grew up in because I knew he was there making it his own home with a new girl who mirrored me in every way possible.

So yes, I’ve been hurt. And this is only one brief story. But it’s the most recent one that hurts the most. I can’t help but think you can do the same thing to me. I can’t help but think that you could not want this and suddenly stop talking to me without any warning and vanish. I can’t help but think that when you don’t respond to me in a timely manner it’s because you’re off fucking some girl, not that you’re just trying to concentrate on your homework. I truly apologize, but it’s ingrained in me at this point.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to navigate these waters. I need you to be helpful and not hurtful. I don’t want to be away from you because it makes me anxious and when we’re together I feel at ease. I don’t want to annoy you with my obnoxious and bitchy behavior. I don’t want to put my past on your shoulders because I know it’s something I have to deal with, not you.

Because the truth of the matter is, I’ve never been in a serious relationship. I’ve never met the parents in a formal manner. I’ve never gone on trips with my “boyfriend”. I don’t even know if I’ve ever called someone my boyfriend in a serious tone. I’ve never said I love you to a guy and I’ve never heard it in return.

You told me everyone has a secret they’re trying to hide. Well, that’s mine. So if you’re looking for me to open up to you, there it is.


A Small Part of Me


There’s a small part of me

that lives down deep inside.

A part of me still loves you,

a part of me I thought died.

It thinks about you on rainy days

and days when the sun shines.

It thinks about you in the morning

and late into the night.

I would like to think about other things,

but this small part keeps my thoughts occupied.

It thinks about you when I don’t want to,

and it just so happens to make me cry.

This small part of me remembers the way your hand felt

when it brushed up against mine.

It has a fond memory of when you studied me

to guess the color of my eyes.

It recalls each time you laid me down before bed

and the way our legs intertwined.

What’s weird is this small part of me secretly knows

if you come back into my life.

I would be willing to take every inch of you,

and leave the bitterness behind.

The small part of me says this

even though you messed me up

and left without a goodbye.

But that part doesn’t know this

so it keeps bringing up thoughts

even after all this time.

As I listen to my head

and pretend like everything will be just fine.

I feel my chest rise and fall

but I don’t feel that small part of me tonight.

Two Broken Hearts


Two broken hearts have been captured in this bed.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” one heart says.

But the mental damage has already been done.

The hearts beat rapidly side by side yet still numb.

Silently seeking for the person who caused the cracks.

These hearts are only pining for something to distract.

Lips slip together like smooth pieces of a puzzle.

No words are spoken their time together is muffled.

Bodies raging full of insecurity.

Their dance is nothing close to maturity.

One of the broken hearts has been left behind.

With nothing to latch on to, nothing to bind.


White Converse

Free Verse

I want to know why you picked her over me.

I want to know why you picked her over me when you can clearly see.

You can see the parts of me that are hidden inside of her face.

Everything is symmetrical and put in the best place.

But it wasn’t her perfect smile than shined brighter than mine.

It wasn’t her dark wavy hair that suddenly caught my eye.

She wore a flawless pair of converse in the whitest of hues.

Four years younger than me, and everything seems brand new.

Because the curves in her eyes matched the creases in mine.

The twists in her hips and thighs just reminded me of my small cup size.

Her skin has a dark glow and there are no freckles in sight.

And sometimes I wonder if it’s weird to think of what she smells like.

But let’s not forget her white converse that could shine.

She is adorning a pair that looks very similar to mine.

Except mine are covered in dirt and grass.

Because I’ve been through shit but she’s a class act.

I would wear these shoes over to your place.

I’d leave them by your bed on nights that I would stay.

But you don’t remember because now I’m hidden inside of her.

I guess I can now clearly see what you prefer.

You prefer someone that turned out to be…

beautiful, perfect, a better version of me.