sixteen

all of a sudden i am sixteen again

blowing smoke out the rooftop window

alone except for the stars in the sky above

soft pitter patter of rain against the window

only now i am no longer consumed by self-loathing

or plagued with that hatred for every fibre of my being

was it ever even mine in the first place?

i'm transported back into my old bedroom

gloomy in the dark apart from the soft glow of my computer screen

i see myself there, tap tapping away at the keyboard

misunderstood by those around me

so i turned to pouring my heart out to strangers on the internet

hoping someone would read between the lines 

and help me find the missing piece

surely then i would feel whole again?

one, two, three too many times did i curse the sky above me

for that tragic, lonely ache soaring through my veins

feeding the belief that there was something very wrong within my dna

and when everyone i loved had left or been pushed away

there was no one else but myself to face

it was then i understood that i wasn't doomed

the moment i entered my mother's womb

that hollow space inside my bones

was never made for anyone else to hold

now, more than a decade later, i can clearly see

it had always been a perfectly shaped mold

wherein self-love is supposed to go and flow