I Wander Less

The process of loving

a man

that isn’t good for you

is really the journey of uncovering

everything about yourself

that lay hidden, lied to, and unaccounted for.

I thought I healed months

after it was over

and still I find myself

leaning into the suffering

that comes with

having loved a man

that did not love himself.

In our interactions,

I’m still triggered

giving weight to another’s opinion of my worth.

Allowing the opportunity of my memory

to what might have been – had wishes come true,

serve as a reminder

to the pain I had to embrace

in escape of broken soul ties.

I run towards future

but find myself looking back

in hopes of surrendering.

Always – it is energy mistaken

leading me to wonder if

I can ever trust myself.

To what end is my sacrifice?

Will I never know love outside of solitude?

Can this memory pain ever lay to rest, in peace?

Or will I always find it tasting bitter on my tongue?

Will my heart ever stop seeking validation

in the arms of those who

found my worth left wanting?

I wander in the black abyss of my soul

searching for the end of growth pains,

panicking for light

in short breathes and outstretched fingers.

There is so much healing to do.

It is hard to image

that I came into this world whole,

once knowing the way innately.

I daydream of starting over.

Finding myself claustrophobic

in a town that bared witness to him

breaking my heart.

The last deep breath I took

was when I traveled alone

and allowed the sea water

to kiss my wounds with salt.

I yearn for the chance to matter

less than a stranger

but I also reach for the kind

of love that is all consuming,

aligning the universe

to exactly where I stand in love.

I waiver in this journey and

know not where I will find

the strength to continue.

I falter to my knees,

not for the first time,

though this time I don’t get back up

with conviction.

I stay in hesitation

with the anticipation of what

another hope would cost me.