You
there will
never
be enough words
to measure
what you mean to me
I leaned gently into the shape
of the woman I thought I should be—
Steady.
Loyal.
Kind.
Hardworking.
And quiet.
I gave all of myself
to the roles I was handed—
woman,
mother,
worker,
caretaker of everyone’s peace but my own.
I stayed
when I should have run.
Loved
when I was left empty.
Offered grace
when I was met with silence.
I believed that mercy would be enough
to earn gentleness in return.
And somewhere along the way,
I began to disappear—
a soft unraveling,
thread by thread.
Still, I hoped.
That someone might love me
the way I’ve always loved others—
with tenderness, with depth,
with no fear of the messy parts.
I long to be seen
not just for what I give,
but for all that I am—
the flawed, the beautiful,
the tired and the still-dreaming.
I want a life beyond the list.
Beyond the tasks and the timing.
I want joy that lingers,
and love that chooses me
without conditions.
I want to be told
that it’s okay to follow what stirs my soul,
even if it leads me away
from the well-worn path.
That choosing happiness
is not failure,
but faith.
I want the safety I’ve given freely,
the honesty I’ve spoken into silence,
to return to me
in soft echoes.
To be held without fixing.
To be chosen without question.
To grow beside someone
who sees me as I am—
not too much,
never too little.
I’ve glimpsed this life—
the one where I belong
to no one’s expectations
but my own.
And I am learning
that I do not have to break myself
to be worthy of peace.
It’s over.
Pack your bags.
That’s a wrap.
Goodbye.
From dust to dust.
It’s in the bag.
That’s it.
The final countdown.
Cut!
Submit.
after Hailey Small
brings martinelli’s to book club, takes two naps on sunday, stocks up on sunscreen. She’s strawberries drizzled in honey and sprinkled with lavender and a little bit of flake salt. June wears malachite
and tells you she’s shedding, nothing to do with her uterine lining and everything to do with her boss and her boyfriend and her boundaries. June gets voice notes from her lover and saves them like her favorite song.
June gets called a bitch at work. She doesn’t close the blinds when she kisses, she’s not shy. June walks to work with an umbrella or a steel cup or a brick. You could call her crazy but can you blame her?
June is my ex-lover in the mountains, who can’t say she loves me without a mushroom or two, I’m glad she’s here but I know she’s leaving me, she’s beautiful, but fuck, I don’t want to be cold again.
The sweet toothy smile connecting
pink chunky monkey cheeks
and agog blue eyes connecting
with me on FaceTime was the exact
elixir needed to spring this cantankerous
granny from her grumpy throne
She answered the blind call and instantly
linked eyes and hearts with her sugar booger grandson
Momentary division united by undivided attention
In the downward spiral
you miss the ascent up the ledge
but you have to fall
hit the ground hard
break a few bones
before you can get back up
and climb again.
As I fall,
bracing for impact
I wish I could go back
to the moment before I lept
but there was nowhere to go but down
so I smack the ground
and feel the crack in my ribs,
I mourn you everytime I lay down to go to sleep
The heat that you’d transfer through your shirtless skin
The softness of the hairs that live on your arm
The way your collarbone would show just a little too much
The way you’d laugh with nothing but your smile
The way your fingers felt wrapped around my waist
Like time didn’t have a hold on me
And the world stopped spinning just so we could sleep
You’re tattooed on my heart
You’re in every song that I listen to
There’s a character like you in every book
An actor in every movie
Every memory that floats into my brain
Your scent lingers in every place I visit
I teach others the exact way you taught me
The ghost of you is in everything I do
I don’t know how to escape you,
How to escape the thought of you
