Getting there, though no idea where.
And to be honest: I don’t care.
But slowly, step by step,
every second, every day,
I am getting closer, yes, I am!

And sometimes it feels like I can see it,
I can taste it, I can hear it.
Sometimes it seems like I'm already there,
no longer here.

But there’s still a long way to go,
many sleepless nights and long days
a journey through the snow, the hail, and the sleet.

Getting there, though no idea where.
And to be honest, I don’t care.

Would it help me if I did?

I used to think I kept you like a secret.

Is it a secret if no one knows it’s being kept?
Maybe I’ll never know, but
if I did have the chops to say it out loud,
I’d tell them that
I have dreams about that plane ride.
I’d take the 6AM flight just so
the colors of the sunrise would
chase me for a thousand miles.

I’d sip my hot coffee
with too much cream at
my window seat and
make small talk with
the older woman seated beside me.
She has a kind face and
takes this flight often to visit her
son and his family.
(He relocated for work,
but couldn’t pass up the salary.)
She’d ask if I’m coming or going.
“I’m not sure yet,” I’d reply, and
offer to buy her a drink,
as I revel in and relive
every crumb of our story with her.
It’s a good one, I think.
(And she thinks so too.)
She places her hand on mine, and,
with the sincerest of smiles,
wishes me well on my adventure.

She’s always there, and I like her.

I dream that baggage claim is
a ghost town, but I
recognize your eyes beyond the carousel
before I recognize my own blue suitcase.
Sometimes you have flowers in your hand,
but you always have a hug.

There’s excitement and understanding in it—
a relief that teeters on tears
and lips that waited for so long
to whisper, “Finally.”
And I feel so safe and found.
I’m at home
in a place I’ve never been before—
in arms that have never held me.

My blue suitcase— still circling.

I laugh, and I can’t wait to tell you
that I dream of you in color.
I quickly give you instructions
on how to find me again
in case we get lost.
I tell you dream flights are cheaper
if you’re in bed before 9PM.
I don’t know if you hear me,
but before I can ask,
I’m awake.

I’m alone.

You’re my secret again.
The secret I’ve never told.
BWI direct to XNA.

There’s a mist on the water,
When I wake.
It gets thicker every morning,
Creeping a little farther into shore.
I spend my days now,
Moving my house,
Further up.
Trying not to drown,
In the inevitable gray.
It’s one of those things you don’t escape,
It’s one of those things that never goes away.

It rests,
Slumbers for a while.
But never stops,
Creeping up.
So close to me,
I fear that I’ll run out of energy,
To run,
To escape.
I’ll die in this foggy place,
Join the sirens with their frowns,
Dragging more people,
Down.

To the fog.

Make sure there's nobody around
To see you leave this place,
Keep your eyes down,
Don't even look back at me.

If they ask why you were gone,
You were studying; you ran back,
I know they'll ask why you're flushed,
But keep your head down and nod.

Drive down the backroads when you leave,
Replay the words I always say:
"You can always stop"
But I know we won't get there

To those meetings in parking lots,
Because we're just lying in these rooms
Continuing this illicit affair
Because we failed to hide our longing stares.

It started with just a kiss, now it's so much more,
And it'll end with all of this,
Dying and dying like the stars we sat under
A million times together.

When you leave, take everything with you,
Delete all the photos, and emails,
Like we didn't exist at all,
I'm sorry I left you stranded again.

But don't take my words to heart,
I'm just high of the taste of you,
It'll all wear away soon,
No illicit affairs to die anymore.

And if we talk again, I'm screaming on the inside,
Because if you try to call me baby,
I'll cry, like we died, and I can't let you
See all those parts of me again.

So don't come up to me again
Like we're back to normal—it's just pretend
And I know that I'm a broken mess,
But you made me keep coming back

So I know all too well how this goes,
This game, this play, this twisted show,
And I can't deny that I would ruin myself
For you a million times.

Like a piece of my jigsaw
Like a block from my jenga
Like a bridge for my song
Like a love forgone

You are missing from me

I feel your gaze through the image on my screen—
the screen that binds our hearts in silence.
In the quiet between us lives a bond,
gentle, certain, and unwavering.

But oh, how I long for your touch
to linger on my skin—again and again.
Your grasp still hums within me,
like a memory, faint yet alive.

Ah—what lies between us aches in my chest,
until your lips curve, and I breathe again.
I close my eyes,
but the laughter in yours still peeks through—
soft, steady, kind, and soothing.

You may not know it,
but you are my four-leaf clover.
When the light dimmed,
you were the one who brought it back to me.

Your words carry belief—
not loud, but certain—
and somehow, that’s enough.

We had never truly known
what affection or passion looked like.
But you, my darling,
you didn’t just tell me what love is—
you showed me.

Of all the chances life could give,
you were the one it gifted me.