happy fucking birthday

It’s funny how much I knew

and still chose to keep to myself.

I’m not even sure why.

i guess i was hoping you’d choose honesty one day,

that you’d offer me the truth without being asked.

It’s reminiscent of my father-

a little girl waiting for him to take accountability,

to look me in the eyes,

to explain, to inquire, to hold.

the truth was revealed,

in november under blankets that were becoming familiar

in neat, written words, right in front of my eyes

words that left me empty and trembling

and still, I ignored it.

maybe that makes me naive.

maybe that makes me foolish.

one that will always be truthful is my body

the intelligence rooted deep inside me-

it’s all-knowing and attuned nature

and thank you to the unexpected person who validated me-

my experience, my confusion, my hurt.

to see a persons character is to observe their actions, their patterns

and now, it hurts less to fall asleep at night