i crave to be craved.
i long to be kissed
and hugged
and loved.
i miss the feeling
of being a part
of a relationship.
i miss being
one half
of a greater whole.
i want to feel
somebody's arms
around my waist.
i want to feel
his lips against mine.
i want to feel
his eyes tracing
every inch
of my body.
i want
to be loved.

i remember
when i was younger
i asked my mother
why the ocean was salty.
she told me
it's because
the fish in the sea
shed tears everyday
for the loss
of their fish mothers.
i always felt sorry
for those fish
who cried enough tears
to flood seventy one
percent of the earth.
now i am
a longing fish,
drowning
in my own
saltwater tears
for the loss
of my mother.
she left me
behind,
alone with the
giant school of fish.
there are so
many fish in the sea
and yet
i only need one
but she doesn't
need me.

Her smile was like the moon surrounded by darkness yet still shining through

A goodnights rest is a mystery

Maybe heaven is a goodnights rest
Because on this forsakenplanet I can't have  one good night of sleep
There's nothing that could forgive what I've seen
I think my eyes are asleep
But my mind motions to my heart wondering if this is who I strive to be?
And my heart just responds with another question
Like,  is this really Me?
And I can't help but think
Like I literally cannot help but think
I actually wish I could turn my brain off and sleep
But I am in way too deep
I've seen way too many things that one can't just unsee
So please forgive me
For not being as good as I could be
I wish my eyes could see some kinda hope or love that's out there
But I'm surrounded by dark and I can't help it but stare
Like look at what my eyes see ?
What could all these lies be
Let's Believe all of them and see how close to death we can be

I wish the traveling circus were still around to run away to. It's not about being afraid to leave as much as it is needing a place to go. But my father was a mountain and my mother was a hole. And we're caves, mouths open and full of the cold. Been sitting so long myths have been made about the things that live inside us. The children come on dares to look in there. And yell in fear, at first only to have those sounds echo back. Then they laugh. There was never anything to be afraid of. Our bodies are full of that noise. Mostly the laughter. It lasts longer. It feels better. But is easier to forget because no one ever learned anything by laughing as much as being brave. You have to be scared to be brave. And moving from this place takes the strength of an earthquake sometimes. But you should know, your hands will never be big enough to hold all the rubble when the mountain crumbles. I remember when the cancer hit. The chest x rays from when they removed the portocath. Backlit, your chest resembles a busted cemetery gate from some ghost scene in a Sherlock Holmes movie. Broken. From letting all your ghosts go. And don't focus on all the things your hands can't hold. Your head fits just fine. Your hand. Cupped over your mouth to catch all your sighs. Can hold a cup of coffee to give to someone. Flowers. A poem. Tonight. Tonight you realize you're a mountain twice removed. A marble statue. So strong and so beautiful people will come a long ways just to see you.