Maybe I am the type
(Borrowed from Sarah Kay)
Maybe I am the type you would like to look at, go on, look. Maybe you have never seen a women before.
Maybe I am the type you would like to hold, do hold me. You reached out and I was the closest, but I am not what you were reaching for. I am not your guardian, muse, mistake, victim, promise or a snack. I am a woman with beauty, strength and grace. I am not made out of metaphors, excuses, nor apologies.
Maybe you are straining your spin and arms standing upright. All is evolving and yet it still feels unnatural. You curl yourself around me like a question mark, admits that you don’t have the answers to what you should know by now. Don’t hold me like an answer. I am not a question. I am not an answer. I am not a riddle, a joke or a punchline. I am a woman. Maybe you have never seen a woman before.
Maybe I am the type you would love. Being loved in not the same as loving. Everyone needs a place, and mine is not inside you. Maybe you never loved or be loved by a woman before.
Maybe I am the type you would hurt. You would never hesitate to slice open my smile and see how long I am stupid enough to hope for two.
You appeared at my door step wearing nothing but a promise. No, is there a word for sucker punched in the heart? That is how you arrived. Is there a word for fallen before the roller coaster even moved? That is how you left me. I thought practice made perfect but you are just repeating the same mistakes. You are not getting closer. You never get closer.
Is there a word for the moment you win a tug of war? Now the rope crumbling towards you, and finally you won as you always wished for. There should be a word for that.
Because I would have said it when we finally end up sitting side by side again and neither of us would have anything left to say.
One day, the mailman would find you through my words and lines, and hand you a box of paper, “there is a girl who still writes to you, she doesn’t know how not to yet.”

