Phoenix

Come to my funeral;

We’ll be burying the old me.

The girl who is wandering,
Lost.

The girl who hates being lonely.

The girl whose heart you broke

With no apology.

The girl you made feel unlovable,

Not to mention ugly.

We’ll be burying the pale one,

the one who eats her feelings.

We will be burying the polite one,

the one who was walked on.

Will you give a eulogy?
Will you speak fond of her because now she is a memory?
Oh, I hope she haunts you bad.

We will be laying the girl who begged for you back

six feet under.

We will be bidding farewell

to the girl who was crushed when she saw her in The Rec.

Do not lie your roses on the casket of a girl who had no pride.

Do not claim her sacrifices were worth it, when you took them for granted.

Instead,

scatter her ash.

Let each piece of her be spread across the world around you,

be carried on the wind.

Watch her as she rises,

taller,

greater,

stronger;

Beautiful.

Watch her take flight,

unafraid of height.

Watch her smile

and laugh without worry.

Watch her live alone,

but never lonely.

Watch as she makes her mark,

and tells her story.

Her greatest heartbreak

will be the best-selling copy.

Whether you were hers for three years,

or three months,

she has not left you out of her history.

Watch him light her eyes,

watch him hold her hand,

but steal her heart,

only to lock it in a vault.

Only time will teach you that you weren’t smart.

Only time will rip open bindings meant to heal you quicker,

rather than watch her suffer.

And maybe you’ll be unaffected,

but each time the memory of you comes up in her head,

know it will be only dirt you swallow.

You are part of the old her.

You have no hold on her.

You who burned her,

watch as she ignites:

a bird of fire.

A Phoenix, now living.

Death,

was only her beginning.

129

So so so relatable. She’s magnificent as always.

Serendipity

Maybe I get lonely sometimes, so I wait for you to ask if I want you to stay. I always want you to stay. Maybe I want to kiss you and have you tell me I’m lovely so I can remember how to be that good person again. Maybe I want you to tell me I’m the best, so I can feel worthy because it’s a feeling I’m unfamiliar with. Maybe I don’t understand why that’s important, so you certainly don’t need to worry about it.

Maybe I wanted to kiss you like tomorrow didn’t exist and this was our last chance. Maybe I wanted to feel butterflies in my stomach when our lips touched so I could forget all the bad things that have ever happened. Maybe one good kiss could fix everything and I could be okay again.

Maybe you could leave a scar on me too for me…

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