Melanie Valdeabella
i wear my heart on my sleeve
i wear my heart on my sleeve
i dream with my head up in the clouds
hoping that one day the words i write
will make a difference in the world
with every stone thrown at
my bruised and breaking heart
a new wound opens
the knowing looks and the pitying eyes
make the healing a slow-burn
sitting on a rocking bench that
i wish would rock me to sleep
all the words i wish i could say
come crashing in waves
in the ocean that is my mind
i wear my heart on my sleeve
i’ll look you in the eye and
tell you that i promise
i’ll lock my lips and throw away the key
your other fair-weather friends
will cross their fingers
behind their backs, but me?
in a never-ending cycle
i’ll tie my shoelaces
and put my feet down on the ground
walk without watching my step
and trip over my own two feet
here is the secret i must keep
for as i have picked the lock and
shattered those few little words
into a million pieces
i wear my heart on my sleeve
i forgive and hand out chances
like they’re coins needed to survive
i’ll be one of the many crumpled up
pieces of paper scattered
across the bedroom floor
and give you the chance to
open me again, knowing that
i’m more fragile than i was before
i’ll give the wrong people
more chances than i’ve
ever given the right people
because if i were them
i’d have wanted the same
even if my many mistakes
would never add up
to being worthy enough
i wear my heart on my sleeve
and it leaves me as an open book
but now that i’ve hit the bottom
my armour is slowly being built
never grown up
i’m five-years-old
watching from a distance as
the pictures on the wall would disappear
when Lumière and Cogsworth
would find their way home and
the Beast scared us all out
of the kingdom you made of
all the bricks they threw at you
no kingdom near or far had
the curve of the hallway
or the water you longed for
no kingdom seemed to cure
the sleepless nights
the raging fights and
the flickering lights
maybe we had nowhere else to go
or the last petal on the rose was about to fall
i’m six-years-old,
i find myself alone
the curious eyes and the cautious raise of hands
had made me believe that
i was just some lucky penny
ready to be bought
remember the nights where i’d sit in your lap
being the chatterbox that i always am
remember how i’d fall asleep in your arms
remember those days where you’d
smile as you’d pretend that i wasn’t there
and i cried when you left
without giving me a hug and
telling me you loved me
i’m ten-years-old and i finally understand
the nights where you’d leave in your car
and come home when the lights are off
the days where you left in your own defeat
forgetting that the woman standing
where you used to be
had given you everything you wanted
i’m twelve-years-old
stuck in the middle of growing up
and staying your little girl
yet, i’m blaming you for the thoughts in my head
i’m pushing you away
hoping that my actions would make you a better man
i’m fourteen and there’s so much i can’t do
and i can’t wait another four more years
all my friends can do all that i want
and his brother has everything that he wanted
i’m fifteen now and you’re no longer here
now all that i want is for you to be here
i lost him and i’m losing myself
and it’s unfair that i write you letters
but the only response i’ll ever get
is the sound of your voice when
i call the phone and you don’t answer
it’s been ten days now
and i’m wishing that i’d never grown up
please hear my prayer
“darling, if you knew the man i was before,
you wouldn’t love me as you do now.”
daddy, if you knew that
victorian bitter would make this love crumble,
why pick the bottle up again?
i lost my faith, many years before.
every night i’d pray that daddy would
no longer put the bottle to his lips.
every night on the phone i’d tell him,
hoping that my little voice would be
enough for it all to end.
six years go by,
and it doesn’t take a prodigy
to know that those three blissful years
don’t last forever.
though he tried to come out of the dark.
the darkness had claimed him,
he’d let those words slip from his mouth.
he’d say, “i hardly take it anymore.”
but daddy, tell me why you’re gaining
the weight, and not losing it
if you only have three meals a week?
i’d never show it, the worry in my mind,
or the tears brimming at the corner
of my eyes as i’d watch him drive away,
without telling him that i loved him.
now that he’s no longer here,
the cruelties of time deciding
to close the stopwatch.
though i’m thankful that
he can’t feel the pain anymore,
there’s something i must ask.
if there’s a god out there,
please hear my prayer.
give me the chance to say goodbye.
shine a light in the dark
and give me a sign
that you saved him from
the hell he believed he was destined for.
if there’s a god out there,
please hear my prayer.
i’m afraid to close my eyes at night.
i’m afraid that i’ll find myself alone,
fighting the monsters in my head.
so, if you’re listening,
could you give me a helping hand?
if there’s a god out there,
please hear my prayer.
if i could see him in my dreams,
maybe i’ll no longer be afraid…
maybe he’ll know that he is loved,
and that he will be missed.
forgive me father, for i have sinned.
i wish i knew you
i dreamt of scattering your ashes where land meets water, the place where you felt your calmest yet your most destructive. the place that made me remember the times when you were good, and kind, and happy… and the father that should’ve been around my whole life.
maybe then you would still be here, and i wouldn’t be pretending that you were travelling the world—breathing, even if i’m forgotten. maybe i wouldn’t be thinking of all the ways i could describe you in the most enchanting, metaphorical ways…
maybe i wouldn’t be remembering you for who you could have been… instead of who you really were, or at least the only you that i ever knew. a man far too broken to be mended by the mere promise that i would be born.
that’s what you wanted, right? a little girl, and you would get better. but i slowly figured out that my existence wasn’t enough while you shattered a childhood home into a mosaic of art that wasn’t even beautiful. how could a life built on broken promises ever be something worthy of a fairytale?
i wish that i knew you. not the you i dream of you to be, or the you that appears in the middle of the night when i have nothing and no one to distract me from the thoughts of the only you i ever knew. i wish i knew who you were when you were a teenager with posters on your bedroom wall of girls in their birthday suits that you didn’t even know. i wish i knew the you that took the love of your life on motorbike rides to watch the sun set from the beautiful scenery at the mountain tops.
i’d say that i wish i knew who you were in the dark, but the dark is all i ever knew. i only found the light at the end of the tunnel… when you left. tell me, why do i look for you in everything that i see when all i wanted was for you to disappear?
i guess that’s the cruelties of time. i took it for granted. you travelled the world not knowing i would arrive along the way and now you’ve left again, in a way so permanent, believing i wouldn’t care.
can you tell me if you left willingly, or if some other life force out there, greater than time itself, took you away because you only ever lived with the pain?
but i guess no reason to stay, is a good reason to go. i didn’t get to say goodbye, but at least i can say hello knowing that i’ll be greeted with silence rather than the smell of poison on your breath, and a fake smile as you watched my false happiness after all these years.
as i watch this sun set, i begin to wonder… will i forget everything about you, as the you in the figment of my imagination begins to take over?
i wish i could call you the sun, the moon, and all the stars but a part of me can’t let you be something so beautiful, when my life has never been beautiful until i cried with the devastation that you were gone. is it wrong of me to only wish to see you in all the broken things?
you were never whole in life, and i don’t think you’re whole even in death. i guess i’ll never be whole either. there’s a part of me that i never knew and will never know. but i will live my life as if i am whole.
my reason to live won’t be for you.
my reason to live won’t be for the thousand people that come and go.
my reason to live won’t be for the ones that make me happier than you ever did.
my reason to live will be for me.
and i won’t be afraid.
but that’s a lie. how can i live for me, when that means i should be able to live if i were to ever be alone? i’m too afraid of being alone, or feeling alone in a crowded room.
i guess that’s why you’re gone. how truly ironic for me to understand your darkness when your darkness became light.
Melanie is a first year student at the Queensland University of Technology, majoring in creative writing and also studying human services. She has a passion for learning and growing her art in poetry and prose.