pinklullabies

I'm going to start writing poems again. they're all gonna be for you.

pinklullabies

We fall in love with people, whether it be platonic or romantic, because we long to escape from ourselves, with someone as flawless as we are ‘corrupt’. That’s the paradox here – my vulnerability is the last thing I want you to see in me, but the first thing I look for in you. But what if one day we were to turn around and look into ourselves, to love ourselves back? If we cannot stand ourselves – if we fear who we are, who we can be, how do we live? Who can I be to you, if I am a stranger to me? How can I connect with you, if I am separated from my true self? If I cannot confront the truth of who I am, how can I truly see you?

pinklullabies

i have such an intrinsic connection to my hair. it’s part of how i express myself, it’s an art, it is my unique girlhood, it is my cleanliness, it is how i will meet my god. it is the memory of who i was with you and the reminder of who i will grow to be. it is my heritage, the crown my ancestors wore in the deserts of the middle east. i will wash my children’s hair and take expensive cream through it and tell them this. that this hair is theirs and that it has waited its whole life to grow on their small heads.

pinklullabies

the other day i found the poetry i used to write on an online diary website. i read through it. there was a surprising number of love letters (honestly, badly written). but the thing is i don’t remember ever loving anyone like that. i don’t remember who those love letters were addressed to.
          i think they must of meant a lot to me back then.
          how strange it is that the things that mattered so much to us are now just half remembered poems