tell me it isn’t over. tell me that you’re not already forgetting about me. because sometimes, i worry, honestly.
tell me this is different than it used to be. tell me friendship knows no boundaries, or just stay with me and watch kids tv and feel innocent, for the first time in centuries.
tell me i’m not making a mistake. tell me i have not misplaced my vulnerability.
tell me you’re not going to look me straight in the eye only to then start laughing at me. because oh dear, wasn’t she so silly to believe anyone would actually give a damn about her feelings.
tell me you’re not going to turn on me. like so many other people have turned on me. tell me i know the person i see in front of me.
i think you’re the first person i’ve ever fully trusted. and honestly, that scares me.
I’ve always been afraid of being left, I guess. In this poem, I wanted to try and explore and explain that fear to myself in a way that made, you know, some actual logical sense. I think that’s part of why writing helps me so much, in terms of dealing with my emotions. When you can make logical sense out of your feelings–well, it doesn’t fix them, but at least it assembles them in front of you into something you can imagine dealing with. That’s progress.