Upon my beating heart
A little bird perches and trills
Of life’s many wonders
And its numerous thrills

Of love and war, I hear him sing
Of how war does hurt
And of how love does sting

Of loss, he chirps,
And of bloodshed, of death
But it’s my love he sings of
With a final shuddering breath

I think I am scared to love.
I’m not used to being the vulnerable one;
The one that stays;
the one that is brave.

I do not know how to love.
I don’t know how to let my walls down
To let my fears out
To put my heart on my sleeve.

I want to love.
God, I want to love,
but my hair smells of war
and running and running.

Ephemeral (adj). Lasting for a very short time.

Ephemeral (adj). His love for me; my love for myself.

Ephemeral (adj). The summers of my mind.

Ephemeral (adj). The amount of time I had with him.

Oblivion (n). The state of being unaware of what is happening around you.

Oblivion (n). The state that I live in.

Oblivion (n). The state that I entered when with him.

Oblivion (n). When I can't seem to get out of my head.

Written word used to be an
extension of my mind; my
       thoughts imprinted onto paper
   in neatly formed sentences.

but now                              
they are jagged
uneven.                    
         tired.
                      torn.
malformed.                    ­            
                               incomprehensible.

I can't seem to put the words
together into sentences that  
have meaning.                      

The razor edge of my words
cut me, bleed my body dry
until there's nothing left    
but dust.

I was made to feel
your breath on my lips,
your hands on my hips,
and your words in my ears.

I wasn’t made to love long-distance;
I was made to love up close and personal...