sunsets after dark. | poetry collection

261. - 265.

261.
I hate that I feel as if I am the only one hurting.
The only one that is haunted by the other's presence in public spaces.
The only one that is awake at night wondering what they did wrong and they could've done it differently.
The only that is still trying to seek after the possibility of a them.
That will never happen.
A them that doesn't exist in this universe or the next.
~E, first love.

262.
I have so much anger with you
as a daughter.
Shamed for being a daughter.
Shamed for being your mirror.
Shamed for having your genetics run through my blood.
But as woman I sympathize with you.
Shamed by society for being a woman.
A daughter of a mother.
Mother of a daughter.
Shamed for being born in the first place.
~E, woman.

263.
I feel as if I am still holding onto your hand.
Our backs are pressed upon one another so we can't see the other's face.
Since letting you go hurts worse than anything you could ever say or do to me.
So let me hold your hand. Until I am ready to let go.
~E, hand holding.

264.
Outline.
I need to stop comparing myself to those I look up and admire for their actions.
Acting as if I have to be them to be loved.
Either in clothing like my cousin.
Or my sense of humor and actions like my father.
Then for my emotions like my mother.
They were not rolled out from dough and cut from cookie cutters to make me.
I am not them.
I am not her nor he.
I need to stop making myself that way.
~E, cookie cutters.

265.
I've never knew myself to be this scared.
What happened to me?
Why do I fear the world when the world should fear me?
~E, new found fear.