My origional poetry

Too Much & Not Enough

You came into my life so quietly

I didn’t notice how quickly I started breathing easier.

How your presence felt like someone finally turning the lights on

in a room I’d been stumbling through for years.

And maybe that’s why I’m scared.

Because I’ve learned the pattern—

the way people look at me differently

after they’ve seen the storms behind my ribs,

after they’ve watched my thoughts spiral too fast,

too loud,

too heavy.

They always say it’s okay

until it isn’t.

They call the episodes “one-offs,”

brush them aside like they’re inconveniences

or bad moods

I should’ve been able to swallow.

They tell me I’m too much,

and somehow at the very same time,

not enough—

not stable enough,

not easy enough,

not simple enough to love

without conditions.

So when you look at me like I matter,

like you see a whole person

instead of a diagnosis wrapped in skin,

something inside me panics.

I’m terrified that you’ll leave,

not because you want to,

but because history has taught me

that love has a breaking point

and my mind has a habit

of pressing against it.

I worry you’ll see me on the days

I can’t get out of bed,

when my thoughts grow sharp

and my emotions come in tidal waves,

and you’ll decide—

like the others did—

that it’s too much water to hold back.

I worry you’ll meet the version of me

who talks too fast,

thinks too hard,

feels too deeply,

and you’ll remember

everyone else who said

I was overwhelming.

I worry you’ll watch me unravel

and mistake it for weakness

instead of the battle it is.

But the truth—the thing that scares me the most—

is that with you,

I want to stay.

I want to be chosen.

I want to believe someone could see

all the jagged parts of me

and still think I’m worth loving.

So here I am,

hands shaking but honest,

hoping you’ll be the first person

who doesn’t run

when the light hits the messy corners.

Hoping you’ll stay

not because I’m perfect,

but because you see the fight in me,

the softness,

the heart that keeps trying

even when it’s tired.

Hoping you’ll stay

because for the first time in a long time,

I want someone to.