i

When I said,
“Let’s just be friends,”
it was never meant to be an end.

I Listened to U that night,
and something
wanted to make me lay
with you
for many other nIghts,
to explore our historieS,
hold your hand longer,
learn from one another,
and get back to that.

Oh, but time,
always the bastard,
will not adhere
to stopping,
rewinding, or slowing.

So it was up to me
to slow the pace.

I apologize for the miscommunication.

It was never meant to be an end,
but to see if we could hopefully have
a beginning.

ii

Seeds are planted apart
so that when they grow,
they are given the space
to flourish in abundance,
to appreciate their presence,
their space,
and what they’ve taken
to get to that point.

Some plants grow apart
and move to different pots,
see their former seedlings,
and admire them from a distance.

Others,
their roots entwine
and make a more formidable plant,
one that grows larger,
more enduring,
stronger
with time.

However it happens,
it begins
by giving the seeds
the space and grace
to grow.

To stretch toward the sun
sans apology.
To reach for the rain
without fear.
To be themselves truly,
outside the hands
that harmed them.

And after all that becoming,
if they find one another again—
let it be
because they chose to,
because they bloomed whole,
because love returned
with open hands.

If they do not,
let that be holy too.

Let each one grow
wild and full
in its own season,
unafraid to take up room,
unafraid to be seen.

May love find us, yes—
but only after
we have found ourselves.

Only after we have grown away
from all that tried
to keep us small.

Because every seed deserves a chance
to become
without being buried
by what could not love it.

iii

I stuck my hand through the thicket,
struggling to find myself,
feeling lost and afraid,
and found
the child who also was lost
and afraid.

I remembered her,
not knowing what happened
to the rest of me,
like all of a sudden everything just
went for broke.

“But you liked it, didn’t you?”

Like saying that
gives you the right to
manipulate my mind for years

dressed as trust and safety
for an opportunity
at my body.

But to fuck

with your own blood.

Why him?

You knew
how much I cared about him.

And you told me
He didn’t even want to see me alive,
and I believed it.

With how he treated me,
I believed it.

Not to go to his door,
I believed it.

“Do not speak out loud,
because he doesn’t want to hear you,”
I believed it.

“He doesn’t want to see you,”
I trusted those words.

So I stuck my hand in the thicket,

Thinking “maybe this was a lie, too”
and before I could find myself,
I found you.

And held.

It was different this time,
because time—
oh, Time—
It held
for a bit.

Long enough
for me to see
The truth.

And I hope that
you were able to see
it too.

That through the years,
like you,
I may not have been
waiting,
but I’ve always been
here,
seeing as you become
whoever
you are meant to be,
respecting your space
as best as I can,
holding your silence,
anger,
pain,
even though it was
me who caused it
through not speaking properly
or not properly
knocking your door
down
and saying,
“What I really meant was—”

Or believing what someone said
because your actions spoke
louder,
though it might’ve been
your pain
and I couldn’t
hear you
through all of it.

And maybe that’s it.

We couldn’t hear
ourselves
through all of the pain.

And I’m so sorry for that.

I never want to lose you

Again.

I don’t know
if we have gotten better
at listening,
but I am still here
Listening to hear

Where you are, like that song says…

In finding you

I found myself in the thicket.

All of me.

Safe, and angry as fuck.

Funny things love does.

Return yourself

To you.