Soft in the Middle

by Shelby Eileen

how do you mourn the loss of a love you never spoke out loud never felt with your own two hands?

you don’t stare too long into a window when there’s only darkness on the other side

the only requirement of loving me is that you do it gently and gently does not mean less than it simply means softly, knowingly, responsibly

just because I write about you doesn’t mean I write for you

I imagine being yours so frequently so secretly

I’m just trying to figure out how to remain soft in a world that only knows how to be hard

how I wish someone could know me and think: her freckles are my favourite thing about her her body is like a mountain range; messy, beautiful, enough to split the sky my hands in her hair could hold me for the rest of time she is a world I never want to stop learning I don’t know what it is to feel wanted only what it is to want

whoever made me think that it was more important for others to be happy with who I pretended to be rather than me being happy with who I really am

here I am falling apart and you don’t even know that you’ve got my future in one hand and my end in the other

it’s unfairly rare, and so goddamn difficult but sometimes I can stand to look at myself naked and think this is right this is the home I’ll never have to leave this is mine this body is a bloom, always shedding petals growing anew twining into foreign foliage retreating when conditions get too harsh I need to remind myself: I love you you beautiful thing your fragility has never compromised for the sharpness of your edges the possibility of you breaking has never diminished the beauty of all your pieces

if I had to describe myself in opposites I would admit that I’m both rough and tender tender like professing love, easy as breathing tender like fingers gliding through hair, like rain kissing the earth and yet rough like the old scars on a tired heart rough like mountains standing through storms that would obliterate anything softer

I want to say: I’m up all night thinking about you anyway, so if you needed someone to talk to at 3 am, I could be her. I can be the girl who loves you the way you want to be loved. I’m already there. I want to be your safe place. My heart feels like it was made to shelter yours.

tell me what your dreams are and who you want to be when you achieve them

the stardust on my fingertips is proof that I’ve been reaching for something better it means, one day, I’ll hold the stars whole

I think people are like stories and when they write you into their lives that’s something to be thankful for even if it’s just for a chapter I’m so glad to have pages with your smile on them