"Maybe I am my own happening.Maybe I am the beginning of the story,before you walk in with your bad..."

“Maybe I am my own happening.

Maybe I am the beginning of the story,

before you walk in with your bad jokes

and your three years of silence

scattered across the turnpike.

I am trying to think about the moment

that I started crying, and I think it

was when I realized that all of my poems

were about you.

But maybe they weren’t.

Maybe I was just drawing you in between

the line breaks because I was lonely

and didn’t know how else to fill in the moments.

Maybe I am my own poem.

Maybe I am the reason my hands shake,

why I can’t say no to you even when

you aren’t asking me for anything.

Maybe I am the bad days.

Maybe I am my own sun.

Maybe I am in charge of my own undoing, of my own healing.

Who taught me to thank the ones

who didn’t want to stay?

Who taught me that you were something

to hurt about?

Maybe it was me.

I think it was.

Maybe I want to rest my tongue in

my own mouth and maybe I don’t

actually need anything from you.

I could be the moment it all started.

I could be responsible for the violins

in my throat, for the piano in

my teeth.

Maybe you were never the music in me.

Maybe I have always been singing.”

- Caitlyn Siehl, Piano Teeth (via alonesomes)