No words came today,
Only images of what will never be.
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 7:19 PM UTC
He asked if I ever thought he'd inspire a poem.
I replied, there are only two ways:
break my heart
or put it back together again.
Feb 19, 2025
Feb 19, 2025 at 2:03 AM UTC
Here’s what I know of love:
It's all kinds of beautiful,
With a touch of insanity.
Feb 14, 2025
Feb 14, 2025 at 5:30 PM UTC
I’d choose you all over again
Step back in time
To when we were younger,
To when you wanted me more—
But not nearly as much.
I need you now.
I'd make the same mistakes
If I knew we'd be back there,
Back then,
To when you courted me with frozen yogurt,
Though you were the sweetest of sweet things,
And I bet you still are.
I'd gladly go back
To when I gave up a dream of L.A. and ovations
For the chance to stand with you
Before God and loved ones.
I'd stay right back there
To hear you call me silly nicknames,
To Friday night fights over nothing—
Just to make up.
I'm not sure of the exact moment
We lost everything
That made others call us special,
Or when the stress of the years
Separated us from what's important.
I just know that I'd still pick you.
Feb 3, 2025
Feb 3, 2025 at 9:11 PM UTC
It’s not the ghost of you, dear;
It’s the reality of all you left behind
That haunts me.
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 8:37 PM UTC
Tonight
I’m restless,
Tossing and turning
Inside memories of us.
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 8:35 PM UTC
This is to remind you, love:
Remind you that love—
Real love—
Is reminded of your love every day.
Please
Remember this love:
The love that loves
Only you—
Real,
True,
Good love
That won’t ever stop loving you.
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 8:32 PM UTC
I’ve got plans to let you go,
To burn every memory
And scatter them beneath your window—
One day,
You’ll see what could’ve been.
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 8:29 PM UTC
I don’t have to change the names,
hide beneath hyperbole and metaphor,
or remove details to protect our guilt.
Neither one of us is blameless;
we both created a storm that left behind lifetimes of wreckage.
And I dare not pretend this is in honor
of the beauty we were in the beginning.
No—
this is an ode to a tragedy that will always be:
the you and me that we became.
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 9:46 AM UTC