subject line: to beg forgiveness.

 

dayton, ohio 

All I ever wanted was to be seen, in the midst of the mess.

Standing in the middle of a brick torn street, mismatched in flannel and too green, olive green shoes - hair wild and completely lost in making a statement; my hope has been to be found - just there - and found lovely.

I am a riddle of juxtaposition; I overthink, but pray high and desperate each day; I like my music loud and feather soft kisses silent; I fight to be a voice for the voiceless and over apologize for the use of my own.

I never wanted to be a girl who gained confidence from others taking notice. Yet, here I am.

Forgive me for the mixing of patterns and the ink stains on my fingers because I can’t speak nearly as clear as I write. Forgive me for being a woman who likes her independence, but wouldn’t be terribly distraught if you offered to care well for her. Please forgive me for wanting you much too deeply, far too quickly, and being torn open because you might not be able to give in to me, in return.

Forgive me for begging forgiveness - for being true to my thumping, bleeding heart; for feeling everything ten degrees hotter than what is socially acceptable; for only knowing how to make these sort of confessions silently and with pen and paper

Forgive me for being a girl that gives two more chances than what you deserve and for never forgiving herself for the shortcomings.

Forgive me; I’d like to love you.