Inside Out

My heart was rotted from the inside out.
Love was a fungus, not a sapling.
Wrapped with a million fine threads,
I crumbled to dust.
It held me together and pulled me apart.
I broke under the pressure,
cracked right open.
Like an old egg or a dead tree stump on its way to earth.

Months of scraping out the inside, drying out the shell
And now I'm clean.
I'm put back together.
But I'm empty.
How do I fix that?

The Sorrowful Tree by Bruno Cavellec

earlier iteration:
My heart was rotted from the inside out.
The love that took root was a fungus,
Not a sapling.
Hair-fine white threads held me tightly
While they pulled me apart
And crumbled me to dust.
And then my heart broke under the pressure,
Cracked open like an egg
Or a dead tree stump on its way to earth.
Months of scraping out the inside, drying out the shell
And now I'm clean.  I'm put back together.
But I'm empty.  How do I fix that?

I daydream the past and the future into one.
The present doesn't have anything to offer me,
But the past and the future might hold the same embrace.

Silence

I haven't heard him say it in almost two weeks.
Its as if the words just dry up on his tongue, at his texting fingertip.
Like he doesn't have the energy to push them in my direction.
I envision them falling on her instead
and my hackles rise.

Resiliency

I can't imagine a future without this one.

        Give me enough time and I will be prudent enough to forget him.

I won't settle for an insipid mate.

        Give me enough time and I will be meek enough to enjoy one.

I would do anything for this love to last.

        Give me enough time and I will be polite enough to leave my heart behind.

I demand that all my dreams come true.

        Give me enough time and I will be realistic enough to make up new ones.

I must be loved and adored.

        Give me enough time and I will be mature enough to pretend that I am.

I don't think it will ever stop hurting.

        Give me enough time and I will be practical enough to stop hoping.

Girl with Bike by Aron Wiesenfeld

Am I so dull that no one cares enough to stay?
Is love so blind that, unaware, it turns away?

by Greg Lauren

I Need To Remember That I Am Amazing

I need to remember that I am amazing.
Compliments from others will never stick
unless I believe them.

This is why I am troubled.
This is why I can't believe him.
This is why I fear May.
I tremble that he will notice
how frail
how simple
how plain
how tremulous
how silly
how dull
how boring
I am.

But I'm not those things!
I am something
entirely
brilliant
unique
amazing
glowing
and bright!
When I don't aim to impress, I shine!
I've seen it!  I've felt it!
I am that woman!

But when suddenly I need him to love me,
my colors fade under the harsh light of my own terrified eye,
and I feel limp and vacant.
And feeling limp and vacant
makes you limp and vacant.

But I must not be as limp and vacant as I feel I am,
because he still calls me.

...

WHY CAN'T THAT BE MY PROOF?
WHY CAN'T I BELIEVE HIM?

Because I need to believe it without him, first.
And then every piece of love he gives me will make sense,
because I love me, too.

My home is the sea by Matt Wisniewski