He tells me I'm not fucked up, that things were out of my control and I'm just "delicate." He tells me he loves my laugh, that he loves everything about me and I'm just "perfect." He tells me he wants to make me happy, that I deserve to be treated with respect and I'm trying … Continue reading Papito

Love Me, Love Me Not

I'm a wildflower; the rarest one among pretty, perfect ones. I spend years in this field, watching as others are picked, and I remain rooted here. I want to cry out, "Pick me! Don't you see me here?" but then I remember what I've seen. I don't want to be torn apart for another who … Continue reading Love Me, Love Me Not