Hide and seek

Hide and seek

Tw: heavy themes of childhood abuse 

Count to ten. 

Come and hide me.

In the dark.

I cry like how I bleed.

Hush my mouth

so they can't find me.

Break the night.

Interrupt my sleep.

On and on 

you creep.

Too much time spend 

On my knees

(Not praying).

Tell me in the morning 

that it was just a bad dream.

Tell me that I made up

then tell me no one will believe me.

Did it even happen 

if no one can hear me scream?

A lone tree in the forest 

unable to grow roots.

Pt2

I bleed my words into this poem

so someone might know this happened. 

A record of who you were 

that spells your name in another language.

Will I be heard if I make it flowery?

Will I be believed if I don't mention the name?

Pt 3

Sometimes I dream 

about us playing hide and seek.

But in those dreams 

I found you.

I want you to know that

those dreams are not about 

bruised ego's

and power imbalances

and scratch marks

and split lips,

saliva spilled into

pink traces down your neck.

None of that matters.

No,

in MY dreams 

I pass you by

even though

I know where you are.

In my dreams 

you hide

until you die

and I forget

you ever existed.

A perfect ending

to an imperfect existence.

Bi-erasure

Bi-erasure

All you do

is take pieces of me

until I no longer exist.

If I were a man you'd call me gay,

If I were a woman you'd call me straight. 

Either way it's men YOU center

in your narratives about how I love.

I swallowed myself down enough 

for your convenience.

Shrunk myself so much

to fit into your story of me.

All you wanted was for me to become

anyone else

and I nearly did.

I am glad I have nothing left to give you.

Never thought the day would come 

that I could express just that. 

But I know now that

my existence needs no softening.

I have better dreams to chase

than your approval.

Death never bargains

Although we said goodbye

what felt like a million lifetimes ago,

I think there is a part of me

that just didn't expect 

that this was the end.

I wasn't expecting an invitation

back into your life 

but I felt strongly that

one day I'll see you again.

A passing smile,

a small talk moment,

the way two people who knew each other

connect.

We shared a story 

that spanned many books,

and spread out over the decades.

It felt like there was always more to tell.

And maybe that time was

long and winding

but it was never boring.

Time flew by like a spell.

There was love, even when 

our hearts moved in different directions. 

There was care, even when there was not.

That fire we carried was never lost.

There's a part of me that still lives 

where we left off,

despite knowing we would never 

pick up from there again.

I tried to image I had the power

to still time, but in the end 

it remained waiting

right alongside with me,

its companionship constant.

And now, suddenly,

there is no more story.

and nothing more to tell.

This comma turned to a full stop,

opportunities lost,

two becomes one.

There was an us and then there's not.

Death the great unequaliser. 

I would have gladly sacrificed

all my hope to give you more life,

even if it would have never touched mine, 

but Death never bargains.