A Grave Is Only For The Dead

Poems of letting go of selfhate and getting better from both the struggles of living and my mental illnesses.


1. To you

To YOU who kissed my boyfriend and left me questioning everything he did and said.
I am all for feminism and rights and I know you would tell me that it is also his responsibility but first of all, how dare you? How dare you walk into MY ground and kiss these lips that were mine to touch. You are the angry poems lying under my bed, you are the reason I worried for weeks when he didn’t respond by the second.
You are the reason for me drinking more and heavier than ever before, and if you so badly wanted to kiss him why didn’t you tell him, before you stepped on my ground.  I ended up digging myself a grave of worrying and distrust and I kissed someone else. I was swelling with poison and I couldn’t kiss him to let it out, because he was the reminder of distrust, of that I was not enough. To YOU who fucked my boyfriend a week after I left him because I could no longer sleep with him without thinking about him with someone else. To YOU who touched the body I loved and held for MONTHS. How dare you touch the body with scars I spend so much time trying to heal.  I spend nights of holding him. Goddamn I deserve him more than any of you. How dare you kiss the person I have carried through fire and over mountains.  He is all I want.
To you,
I will say,
I am a human believer and I want to trust.
But to all of you who touched him,
 I will burn your house down, and
I will never ever ever forget.  

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