rearrange us. i was once so filled with love that i created none for myself.

he birthed me in cultures and ideas, and i stopped producing my own.

i blame myself.

how was i to know i couldn’t fly in the comfort of your arms?

it is a hard lesson that has unfolded over years.

time passed and we clung to the good times, they were powerful in their own right.

but my uncertainty never left the room, my faith weakened, and i hid under layers of self-harm and booze.

empty convictions, a loss of self-respect.

i dressed different, i saw the world through dollar signs and good times.

my sexuality shifted to the forefront, my ideas to the back.

it is not your fault, thank you for taking my hand.

i get to go back to me now, i will become more and more blessed in the uncertainty of a unplanned life (love.)