Some days feel like sunshine on your grandma's porch, warm,
safe, welcoming
Full of joy.
Some days feel like neverending tunnels, so
long, and dark
Like you can't wait for morning to come save you, but you
also feel like you're not ready to face tomorrow
Today's the latter
Tonight's the latter
Apr 18, 2021
Apr 18, 2021 at 1:51 PM UTC
His voice cracked when he spoke of her
I could sense his pain in such small sound, almost
Like a whisper
Truly, barely audible, as if his soul wasn't ready to speak of her
As if my soul wasn't prepared to hear
Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 1:54 PM UTC
Today I heard stories of lost love, of hidden pain and misplaced affections.
A man who lost his loved one, his beloved wife. He never got to say goodbye. A simple ‘I’ll see you soon’ was just not there. And all his life, he wonders of infinite what-ifs and could-haves. He loves her, even til this very day.
A woman told stories about her early years with the one she’s married to now. She’s happy. I could tell by the way her eyes kindle when she speaks of him. And that was enough to know that she is still as happy as she was back then.
A friend of mine told a story about her passed grandpa. He would always spend the first few minutes of his days talking with the person sleeping next to him; his dear, treasured love. My friend’s mom would hear them chatter away and she could tell that they were smiling from the back of her door.
A father showed me his notes on his cellphone. One of them was his password to his account I-do-not-know-which; it spelled his daughter’s first name.
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
You were like breadcrumbs
left unpurposely by my digestion during breakfast
You stayed on the kitchen table 'til noon,
'til Mama swiped away the remaining crumbs,
and I have lunch
with another dish--a different meal.
Something else, but not
you.
May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 8:02 PM UTC
They were two lines alike
in resonance at first sight but crumbles
trumbles, and vanishes
to what-ifs and could-haves
of lost goodbyes and almost hellos
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 2:31 PM UTC
a distant star in her eyes
longing for a galaxy in his
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 11:09 AM UTC
she was a box of
cigarettes, waiting to be lit
but would soon run out
of light, of time,
and of you
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 4:00 AM UTC