I miss the words that I deleted. They felt more real.
There is this really heavy hole somewhere in my body and it’s growing. I remember when it first came. I was 12. I thought it was just a wound, you know? I thought it would heal and it would go away like any other time I’ve been hurt.
I thought that if I stopped paying attention to it, it would go away. That’s what I was always taught, I mean.
But it didn’t. The hole just kept getting bigger and heavier and darker and it’s lost. No, I’m lost. I’m lost in this hole and I can’t find myself. People now identify it, not me. I’ve become /that/
But it’s been 6 years now and I’ve completely disappeared. I found home in the black spaces and suffocating feels easier than working my lungs.
I think I’ve found love. The hole has taken me as it’s own, you know? I’m grateful.
It’s time I give back to my love.
Let me show you how much I love you, amor.