un—lovable or rather un—loved.

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distance is all i was thought, it's all i know.

distance is all that i know

hands meant to cradle were made for leaving

a revolving door of faces blurry in memories

i wear abandonment like a second skin

it fits me a bit too well to shed

when love came near, i learned to flinch

to fold myself into a smaller version of nothing

where no one could touch the tender parts of me

i keep my voice low, my eyes elsewhere

if they don’t look too hard, they won’t see cracks

every night, the same prayer echoes in my ribs

there’s a dull ache in the way i wake

the sunlight feels like a betrayal

and my reflection mocks me in mornings

(i tell myself i don’t care, but i oh so do)

because maybe, this time was different

but you proved me wrong like everyone else

i believe that i will once irrevocably fall in love

with someone who does not run

who will love me with all my buts and maybes

and who will know each of my incurable flaws

but belief is a fragile thing and mine shatters

when i lie wide awake at three in my bed

i have to get up and pretend everything's good

i wonder when i will break down

i function on coffee and self-deprecating thoughts

the silence at night grows a row of sharp teeth

and eats all hope i clung to during the day

i talk to myself more than i talk to anyone now

practicing words i’ll never say aloud

"i’m lonely"

"i miss you"

"please come back"

but the syllables chain my throat

so instead, i smile when asked how i’m doing

fine, always fine, never anything else

because pity tastes worse than regret

and regret is already choking me

i was once told i was unlovable

by a boy i thought was everything i dreamt of

nice, kind, tall, brown eyes,

but i guess looks don't reflect,

how rotten the person is inside

i thought about his words long after dawn

it felt like i really was all he said

distance is all that i know,

so i write to feel closer to something,

to you, to anyone, to a version of me

that isn’t haunted by this need

but every line leads back to you

and my world is once again

shrinked to only the size of your shadow

in the end, love feels like a cruel lesson

a promise made with no intention of keeping

i fold myself into words and call it art

only to watch pages burn in the fires i lit myself

and still, i will believe, against reason,

that someone will once love me as i love them

wholly, desperately, without fear or hesitation.

if you ever find me, will i know how to let you in?

to show all the parts i've hidden, the ones i hate

the ones that make me feel un—lovable, un—loved

can i let you see the years of longing

that carved rivers into my soul?

i don't have an answer to all the questions

i ponder upon when i should be asleep

so perhaps until i know the answers at once

until then, i remain un—loved,

because i am not un—lovable,

just un—loved

never taught anything else other than distance

and the song the sea waves make,

when a lonely soul blunders on the beach

maybe one day i won't have to beg to be seen

maybe one day i will finally be loved,

and given back the same way i pour those

who i love in meaningful strings of words,

i'm not unlovable, only unloved.

#clementinespoetry | cover image