Seven Years.

as words fill up the page,
i’m writing for the sake of taking up space. 
the curves and sharp angles
will never capture my true meaning. 
too scared to be myself
even in the privacy of my own skin, 
i hide in spiral notebooks
rewarded with the satisfaction,
i have fooled my opponent.

i hold onto things that need to go free; 
friends,
half filled diaries,
lovers,
empty glass bottles
(useless without lids).
no longer do they bring comfort 
aside from knowing they are still here,

i crave affection 
The kind that feels like
spinning in the middle of an intersection
drenched in rain.
submerged in affection.
without a care for safety.
but i am not fearless.


i hate change that i cannot control. 
i fear being left behind
but easily do the leaving.
i broke a heart without a tear.
But cried when they broke my own.
they wouldn’t fight for me.

she breathes
and i am left breathless. 
the smell of pine and campfire
a dare in the dark,
a chance to leap

a challenge of loyalty
i fight for her.
no road no rain
but I am left spinning

i set a dream free. 
so much harder than a friend,
or the potential of a glass bottle.

i forget to write.
i find a new way to take up space.

i threw away the old spiral notebooks.


Hi, it’s been a minute. Half of this was found among memories, written in March of 2015 – the spring before I met my wife. And so the second half is a sequel of sorts. Everything that happened in the next 7 years. The epilogue.

Talk to you soon,

~ Raelee

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