I'm not going to lie and say that I can easily write on a weekly basis because I honestly can't. In some ways I feel numb and in other ways I feel everything all at once. As I am writing this, it is currently midnight and all I want to do is sleep, but my mind is racing. Writing as an escape has not been much of a refuge; it's mostly been a prison of feelings that I cannot get away from. Because of this, I am unable to write in a way that I would love to. So here are two poems that I wrote a year or two ago. Reading them now still makes my heart break and my eyes water. Even if my writing may not be healing me, I hope in some way, it heals you.

You used to put me on the top of your list

Which gave me so much hope.

No one has ever looked at me as a priority;

A person worthy enough to talk to.

Even you have now deemed me as an option

No longer someone of importance to you.

I know you’ll try to tell me otherwise

By stringing your words into magical rhymes.

And maybe you’ve even realized

That a girl like me isn’t worth wasting your poetic lines.

Just answer this one question:

Do you truly, deeply love me?

Because for the past few weeks

I've drowned myself in a sea.

I miss you more than anything,

A lot more than you’ll ever know.

I’ll love you no matter what

And it’ll be hard to ever let you go.

Maybe I need some confirmation

Than just the words that you speak.

Words can only do so much

I can’t survive just reading your words every week.

I desperately need you by my side

Every atom of your being.

To be able to feel your chest on my own

And hear your heart beating.

Your words may come

From a fraction of your heart.

But the lines you’d graze along my body

Would be a true example of love’s art.

She gives her heart to one too many people

and she ends up gaining nothing.

They always leave her empty handed

and she's left to feel like she's not worth loving.

Why do they do this to her after she always gives her all.

It seems as if they marvel at the sight of seeing her fall.

First she's a treasure; lost coins that are now found.

Then she's taken for granted; tossed in a well to slowly drown.

To him she was never a shiny coin meant to keep in his pocket forever.

She was just a scuffed up, worthless coin only used to wish for someone better.

He will forget her name

and the memories they made.

After all, she was only temporary.

Nothing special, anyway.