Finding Daisies

by Jessica Jocelyn

he wouldn’t be the last man to do all these things, but there’s just a certain wound that forms when that man is the one who created you.

she will always be that little girl waiting on the porch for someone who will never come.

I was easy to control, I sought nothing more than to please everyone, please him.

I never said no, but my body never said yes.

I was told it never happened, or I must be remembering wrong. and although I was seeing things with my own eyes, I was taught not to trust them.

I don’t know how to explain this I don’t want to die, but I just can’t bear to exist right now.

we bonded through a pain so similar. our parents refused to be there as the two black sheep exchanged vows,

let me love the darkest parts of you. show me your scars so, I may kiss those twice. bring me to your walls, the ones you hide behind. we’ll chisel cracks in them to let the light in. we’ll dance and plant seeds and grow new memories.

you’re like my favorite book to read. the one I keep returning to with the cracked spine and pages bookmarked with all my favorite spots to visit. words blurred from random tears and rips, where I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. the one that I read over and over even though the ending stays the same. my hands will reach for you- every time.

meet me where they can teach us that there can be growth even after death.

if the time ever comes when you lose yourself, I will never stop looking for you. I will be the one in the dark, holding a torch, to help guide you home.

when going through hard times, in very young adulthood through tears, I asked my grandmother what if I can never forgive him? I’m supposed to forgive.

I couldn’t imagine not stopping to get lost in life with you, to be young and reckless. I wanted to love you with all the broken pieces of my soul. I didn’t know how to tell you to stop, that I was not good for you. I was too young to know

when you hurt under the surface, no one can see it or help you. so, it continues to grow like cancer in a way that by the time it does come about, it’s now too late.

your volume is your compensation for your inability to communicate.

if you’re going to stab me in the back, turn me around first, look me in the eye. stab me in the front instead. it’s the least you could do.

I am growing stronger every day, into a version that is better than before. and you, well you will have to live with the guilt and embarrassment of your actions.

I release all the negativity you brought into my life and am giving it back to you. you’ve already taken enough of my time and energy and not one more second will be spent on you.

how do you forget someone whose unique fingerprint you still find on your skin? how do you close your eyes and not see their face anymore?

forgiving means letting go of the pain, but I’m terrified that if I let go, I will forget and I don’t want to forget. I need to always remember how it felt so, it can guide me.

the bad thing about experience is you have to first get burned to learn that fire is hot. you have to sometimes be touched in all the wrong ways to discover how you’re supposed to be loved. and you only can truly grasp the depth of pain that you’ve caused once it has come full circle back to you.

true love is without conditions.

when you finally find your voice, not everyone will like it and some may not stay. your voice will draw lines in the sand and those lines will create boundaries. those boundaries will end up protecting you from the people who benefitted from you having none. never lower your voice again

I am the result of people not loving me who were supposed to. but once I understood that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with their incapacity

to do so, I broke free and lived on.