This riverbed of our joy
Was your creation
Now deepening like an abyss
As I continued to erode it
Life's every ripple
Has become a tide
O, I have flooded you
With my mirage of grief
Whose existence I deny
Yet so lifelike to swallow me;
Please, lean towards the light
To grow the buds of your virtues
For my mirky waters maim you
When the currents of my emotions
Fling my stone-sharp negativity
At your beautiful heart
And break it every time;
So when my tempest of tears come,
Despite our throbbing love
Drumming in harmony with our heartbeats' melody
Swim.
And do not drown with me.
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 1:40 PM UTC
it drips from the bottle
and into your
mouth
which spouts words
with no regard for my
feelings
that you don't know how to address
without alcohol kissing your
lips
that form sentences
with a mind of their own
uninhibited by their flattery of me when they were
sober.
it agitates your face
as it rests in your
hands
that used to hold mine and it
glazes over your
eyes
that used to light up when they saw me
or when they heard my
name
that you can hardly stand to speak
without alcohol
dancing on your
breath
that doesn't render sounds
without cheap courage summoned
up.
it depresses your
mind
that I used to find intriguing
as it was paradoxically
kind with a quick
wit
that no longer aims
to make me laugh
but is now restrained by the liquor
label
that you plastered to yourself
without concern -
would you even stop
if your own bottle said
please?
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 1:38 PM UTC
i yearn for
the heartbreak
that comes from losing a soul-mate
i would much rather
my heart ache than
pretend on another date
and so if, for a life-time
my soul
must wait
where my spirit did break
for a love
to ruminate
then,
i yearn for my soul-mate
to restore
what's at stake
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 1:36 PM UTC
You can not be always
Asking God for a sign
Demanding some proof
That He’s hearing your prayers.
Give God a break.
He can’t always be sending
You black birds and rainbows
To prove that he loves you.
You need to grow faith
And stop looking for signals.
The fact that you’re living
Is a sign in itself that
You’re granted the seasons
That you need to do what
You sense is God’s will.
So give God a breather
And stop all the asking
For healing and signals.
Stop searching for rainbows
And birds in the sky
ljm
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 1:23 PM UTC
don’t
touch me.
not because
i break,
but because
i forget
where i end.
your hand
doesn’t hurt.
but it
shifts
the lines
between skin
and silence.
i want
to be
held,
but not taken.
i want
the warmth
without the aftersound.
when you
touch,
i disappear
into the outline
of your want.
i reach back
not to stop
but to
delay.
to fold
the moment
before it
becomes
mine.
touch me
but only
as question.
never
as name.
—
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 12:41 PM UTC
something about the summer air
at 2 a.m.
just after it has rained
i can hear the earth drying
and the flowers going to sleep
or are they waking up?
it is a special kind of quiet
except for the crickets
and cicadas
and the laughter of friends
and couples
(like you and me)
walking home from the bar
the stars and the streetlights are irrelevant
because of the moon
that is painted in one million places -
held by drops of dew
resting on the cars in the lots
i feel the moons
tenderly leave their resting place
to join the fabric on the back of my shirt
i think your hands probably hold
some of them, too
and in this moment
i am thankful to share
my summer air
with you
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 9:48 AM UTC
The depths should
Cry out your name and
The winds ought to whisper
A solemn elegy for you
But Earth kept spinning
And the crowds kept laughing
Oblivious to the fact that
You're suddenly gone
How dare they
Finding happiness
In a world without you?
Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 10:08 AM UTC
9 years ago
your son was 9, you were forty-two
your wife was nearing forty
I was eighteen
daughter 1, fourteen; daughter 2, thirteen
and daughter 3 was only 6
we've experienced anniversaries,
birthdays, funerals
(my dad, my grandpa, my papa)
breakups, and new boyfriends
(just with your daughters, really)
graduations, retirements,
family arguments
chaos and heartbreak induced by alcoholism,
(and now years of sobriety)
first home purchases
(your daughters and myself)
(your son is living with me this summer)
and a pandemic...
much has happened since June 17th, two thousand and sixteen
but the biggest thing yet
will be this Saturday
June 7th, twenty twenty-five
daughter 1 is twenty-two, now
and in three days she gets married
your son is eighteen, now
and he will walk her down the aisle
(he told me he cries whenever he thinks about it)
your wife is nearly forty-nine
she will be there with her boyfriend
(they moved in together, in the house they built)
(they're both sober)
(she referred to him as her husband the other day)
daughter 3 is fifteen
(she told me she doesn't really remember you)
I am twenty-seven, now
and I will read a passage from the Bible at your daughter's wedding -
(just like I did at your funeral)
Jun 4, 2025
Jun 4, 2025 at 10:09 AM UTC
I loved a ghost
stitched from soft words
and glances that meant nothing.
I touched a dream
and swore it had a pulse.
And now I grieve
not you-
but the person I thought you were.
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 6:27 PM UTC
An adage that's stood the test of time...
today, it made me pause and sigh -
does that make me ugly
if I've no one to be held by?
Jun 3, 2025
Jun 3, 2025 at 6:20 PM UTC