Words by Lisha Gabrielle
Let these words by Lisha Gabrielle act as a moment of release, acceptance, and the small victory of being able to express the tumultuous emotions we often try to hide. As you travel through this piece, listen to music that makes you ache, that makes you angry. Give yourself space to grieve.
Why do you come to me?
Why do you hold my hand?
I gave you no permission to hold me like you do.
And I fucking hate PDA.
I hate how you hold me when I’m with my friends.
I’m mesmerized by the fantasy of what a beautiful ending can look like.
But I don’t want it with you.
I hate you, as much as you hate me.
But I can’t say the words.
So please stay.
You’re the colder side of my bed I’m too afraid to roll over to.
You remind me of how lonely I am.
Lonely while I try to find some comfort in the empty crevices you have left me with overtime.
I can’t fill them.
I refuse to roll over to that empty side, I saved that spot for you.
Why do you hug me when I cry?
Your love for me is suffocating.
You’re so cold, you’re an icy chill on a lonely December.
I hate the winter.
Why do you tell me not to cry?
You bind my lungs.
I am drowning in my own silenced cries.
You wipe no tears.
You’re the stormy seas I’m trying to sail- I can’t find the light to guide me to the shore.
But you hold my hand through it.
I am alone with you.
You are both the rain, and my shelter.
I can’t move out from the house you’ve built for me.
I made a home in you.
You’re the pity party I can’t leave.
You’re the black dog that comes to me when I cry, but bites when I need comfort.
You’re my only company.
My distorted fantasy.
You are the waves of the sea, and I’m drowning in your embrace.
You are me, and I am you.
From me to me.
A toxic love letter to the parts of me that won’t leave.