morganlxve

[morganlxve]

Oklahoma

I don't like Oklahoma. Not for the reasons others have.

Oklahoma burns into my mind full of memories I only wish to forget. Oklahoma took my young, eighteen year old heart and tore it apart into such tiny pieces no one could find the remnants of it.

Oklahoma reminds me that the "yee haw" in my voice came from him. Oklahoma reminds me that small suburban homes could have been mine and his.

Oklahoma forces me to fall in love with the idea of a man I used to have in my head. It paints me a picture of a young boy who loved to ride horses that would grow up to destroy a young woman.

So no, I don't like Oklahoma. After that, who would?

#sad poetry #sad thoughts #writers

[morganlxve]

There's a man at work who calls me 'smiley'. I don't have the heart to tell him I haven't smiled in well over a week.

#sad poetry #sad thoughts #writers

[morganlxve]

I have a distinct memory of laying in my bed as a kid and wishing with all my heart that I would get hurt. That I would get into a bad car crash or I'd disappear. So my parents would cry and realize they didn't cherish me enough.

I find it sad that younger me thought she had to get hurt to feel loved.

[morganlxve]

The Smell of Abuse

Today I was commuting my way to a fun day off from work. I come to a stoplight and happen to look to my right with the windows rolled down. An older man with lines in his face that expressed anger and hands that held a cigarette lit with the regret of his past. I could smell the abuse from that car. The smell of smoke from his poorly lit cigarette reminded me of my childhood best friend's dad. He smoked too. The smell of it reminded me of all those nights he would beat his daughter. Sometimes we truly never escape what haunts us at night.

#sad poetry #sad thoughts #writers

[morganlxve]

A Broken Cross

I didn’t find Jesus in a church. I wish I did. I wish I found him inside marbled walls full of dignity and grace to meet him for the first time. There was no dignity left in my soul when I met him like many others.

My mom once told me that the face formed in the clouds when I was five years old was God showing his face to us. But I still didn’t meet him there.

I didn’t meet Jesus crying in my bed before the age of ten night after night for him to just change the situation I was in. Make my mom love me, make her stop hitting me. To save me from that house.

I didn’t meet him when I got so angry that I threw my wooden cross across the room and broke it. I was twelve and was being sexually abused by a neighbor. My prayers were going unheard to me in that time. I didn’t pick up my faith for years after.

I didn’t meet him during the violent relation I had with someone I called a loved and trusted one. I called it a relationship. It was nothing but suffering.

I met him in the aftermath. I met him one day when everything caught up to me one late night in my old bedroom. I can’t explain in words what happened that night, but I can say I picked up my cross and Bible the next morning and haven’t looked back since.

I usually don’t cry in front of others, I was taught to hold back my emotions. But for the first time in years, I cried like I’d never felt that type of love before. Because I hadn’t.

#christianity #christian faith #christian writing #faith in jesus #testimony

[morganlxve]

[morganlxve]

I think the reason I often like the burn of makeup wipes on my eyes is so I can see anything but your face. Even if it means seeing nothing at all.

#sad poetry #sad thoughts #sad quotes #breakup

[morganlxve]

God, how come I only love those who admit to never loving me back? Is it true that I am so incapable of seeing myself as worthy of being loved like that? Do the ghosts of those who I’ve hurt haunt me to that extent? Do I beat myself up with my own fists of self-violence that often?

Maybe I can’t see because of how often I give myself those black eyes.

God, how come when I do love, I love men who serve me love on a knife? I love men who make my skin a home of violence and chaos filled with their own rage. Why do I see the inherent ferocity and convince myself it's love?

Maybe I can’t see because of how often they are giving me those black eyes.

#poetry #poetic #sad thoughts #sad poetry

[morganlxve]

<3

Life isn't gonna get better by chance. It's gonna get better by change.

[morganlxve]

hurt & openness; the oldest of lovers

Not everyone will like you. You’ll feel the sting of rejection, the ache of not being what they wanted or preferred. But to lock yourself away as to not feeling anything? To refuse to put yourself in a position to get hurt or take the plunge for fear of not being enough? You’re closing yourself off to more than just another soul. Think of the lessons they could teach you. The things that you’ll learn about yourself that you didn’t know before. Each time, you’ll learn forgiveness and compassion for yourself because the someone not reciprocating the way you feel is never a reflection of you. You get to learn exactly what you want and how you want to be treated and to never settle for anything less than that. So let them walk away and feel nothing but gratitude because each time it’s never a loss, you have enough love to fill castles, dark rooms, and lonely homes. You’ll never need anyone else for that.