Kerosene

Poetry

“I didn’t know who I would be.
But I think I know now.
I was meant to survive.”

Sometimes I think my body was soaked in kerosene at such a young age. It was as if I never knew fire until one little spark set my skin ablaze. Maybe it was like a chrysalis. Protecting me, waiting for me to become. For the longest time, I didn’t know that would be. But I think I know now. I think I was meant to survive. I was meant to r e m e m b e r. I was meant to burn away and rise as someone new. Someone wiser. Someone broken, but fighting. Maybe I was meant to help others navigate through their own destruction. Maybe I was meant to save myself, too.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Maybe, it was meant
to help me find my path.

All A Dream

Poetry

“I’m still here. Trying.
And I think maybe
that former life of mine
was just a dream.”

It was a crisis of life, you see. Because what could be more impactful than that? One day, everything changed. It was like a storm rolled through and wiped everything away, leaving behind rubble and ruin. It’s been so long now, that even though we’ve attempted to rebuild what was lost, I’m still here. Trying. I think maybe I’ve even lost my ability to smile the way I used to. With abandon. Unguarded. Maybe. Just maybe. That former life of mine was just a dream.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Maybe it was all a dream.

Destinies

Poetry

“But darling, why else
would I exist,
except to love you?”

Is there room for me in your heart? I often wonder, through all the doubts and whispers, if your heart has a place for me. And I suppose, even at my worst moments, in the torrential downpours, the thicket and bramble, the weakest moments when all I have left to do is fall to the ground, I know what my heart wants. It’s always been you. And as long as I’m breathing, I’m going to force myself to move to my feet. To make that next step. To push forward. So that I can love you the way you deserve. Why else would I exist, except to love you?

© Sarah Doughty
2018

If I’m lucky, you’ll love me too.

Coming Back

Poetry

“My love, I’ve been lost so long.
But, if you’ll have me,
I’ll find my way back to you.”

I’m sinking again. Lost. Can you hear me —no, can you feel me? Sometimes I think I’ve sunk so low that there’s nothing left of me but a voiceless wailing. Sometimes I think I’ve gone invisible, and no matter how long I beg — or how loud — you don’t hear me. And I suppose I don’t have anyone to blame but myself. You see, I was too afraid to let you in. That my fears and vulnerabilities only made me weak, and who would want someone like that? Before I realized what happened, my self-imposed isolation sealed my fate. All I can think now, is why couldn’t I let you in? Completely. So I guess what I’m saying is, no matter what happens, I’m grateful for you. For everything you were, and everything you are. And if it’s too late for me, I want you to know you were the love of my life. You are my life.

If you’ll have me, I’ll find my way back to you. And this time, I’ll let you in.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

My love, I’m coming back.

You Are

Poetry

“My darling, you are
the water that brings
color to my soul.”

You are an ocean. You are the stormy cold seas in the north. You are the warm turquoise shimmering in the south. You are in the rain, traveling through the clouds. You are.

My darling, you are salty tears evaporated into the atmosphere. You are the dew on morning grass. The mist after darkness falls and a chill fills the air. You are the water that brings color to my soul.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Let’s paint our world together.

Special thanks to my friend
@writetoinspire
for the inspiration
on this piece.

The Stories Between Your Lies

Poetry

“You see, you were broken.
And I fell for you anyway.
Because I am broken, too.”

The stories between your lies. That’s what I wanted to discover. Bits of truths scattered in those crevasses. The true depth of emotion when all I saw was a mask. I wondered what lived beneath your façade. I wondered what mysteries I would unfold. And I admit, I felt a sense of excitement from the prospect of uncovering you, like an archeologist — one little piece at a time.

So I promised myself one thing. I wouldn’t fall in love with you. But the deeper I went, the harder it became to keep my guard up. You see, you were flawed. You were broken. You tried to hide it, but I somehow found my way through. To your heart. Before I realized it, I’d already fallen in love with you. Despite those lies. Despite your resistance. The masks. Everything. I fell for you anyway. It was something I never expected, but I didn’t regret it, once I felt its existence. Because, my love, I am broken, too.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

You don’t have to hide.

I’m not entirely sure
who I was writing about here,
but I felt it deeply.
Perhaps it is a new heroine.
I hope you enjoyed this little tale.

Most Alone

Poetry

“In the chaos of my darkness,
I feel as though no light can truly exist.
Except you.”

In the chaos of my darkness, I feel as though no light can truly exist in this same existence. As if a black hole has encased me. And I am caught in its pull. But there’s one exception. You. You have always been a glimmer off in the distance. Yet the bleariness of my sleepless eyes loses sight of you from time to time. It’s then that I feel most alone.

© Sarah Dougyhty

But I know I’m never really alone.

Prison Walls

Poetry

“But darling,
I don’t just love you.
You are in my DNA.”

Your smile crossed what seemed to be vast oceans and an infinite number of miles of unforseen terrain of my walls — this self-made prison of mine — to reach me. And love, it was the brightest and warmest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. I don’t just love you. You became part of my DNA. Your light flows through my veins and I will always feel you with me.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Thank you for
bringing this light.

Red Howling

Poetry

“It is the blood
in the moon I seek.
Can you hear my call?”

It was the silent darkness that whispered only to me in the dead of night. It was the depths of the icy seas that drew me in with each surge. It was the brittle wind that howled only in moments I was there to feel it. That was the red in the midst of black. That was the taste of regret. The touch of light I so desperately needed. The echo of my voice, carrying to the sky.

It is the blood in the moon I seek.

Can you hear my call?

© Sarah Doughty
2018

Do you hear me
where dreams go to die?

Flames And Rubble

Poetry

“Oh but darling, there’s nothing left.
Our world went up in flames
and left nothing behind.”

Oh but darling, the silence was deafening. I was sitting there, watching our world go up in flames and there was nothing I could do but watch. It snuck up, like a slow-burning ember that suddenly caught, leaving everything engulfed in a pyre. There was no time to react. No scent of smoke to warn us. One second all was fine, and the next, everything was burning to the ground. And the silence, there was no roaring. No popping or crackling. It was utter silence. That was the scariest part.

And then, all that remained was rubble.

© Sarah Doughty
2018

This was what it was like when the memories of my forgotten traumatic past came back to me. At first it was just a few thoughts, a few flashes of still-frame images I didn’t want to see. I thought I was going crazy. But those images turned into galleries. Then silent motion. First, only a few seconds. Then longer scenes. It wasn’t until later that the sound began. When I heard everything in crisp surround sound. My world shattered and burned to the ground because of me. Because of what happened. And we’ve been left sifting through the rubble ever since.