Vulnerable

How do I show you the scars under my skin?

How do I let you in when I’m afraid of my sins?

I feel the absent presence of everyone who I’ve let in.

Only for them to leave me shriveled and closed off again.

I like to start my poems with questions

I’ve questioned my whole life

I’ve questioned the weight of all my pain and strife

How do I be vulnerable without coming off as angry

When there is so much anger within me

My steps a quiet rage as my bones crack with indignation 

The blood flows to my ears my body heating at my vexation

Boiling my tears as they stream down my face

I feel so much different than the dreams that I chase 

I feel so slow and stagnant while my life speeds up the pace

How do I be vulnerable

When my pain has a face

Its presence is heavy and unrelenting taking up all my space

Do you want me to be vulnerable? Okay

I hate who I see in the mirror.

Every. Single. Day.

I hate what I write

I hate the way I speak

I hate the way I give myself to people who think I’m weak

I hate the way I’m hurting

I hate it when people tell me it’s not a big deal

I hate that I am meek

I hate being vulnerable because it opens up a door

It opens up the flood gates and I can’t cry anymore

How do you be vulnerable, cause one more crack and I might break

I don’t think I can be vulnerable, I don’t have what it takes.