finding out the one you love
is different than what you thought
is kind of like finding out
"daddy's not a superhero"
you feel sad
disappointed
scared
and worst of all like it was all
a lie.

i was scared for a while
when i thought i lost my words,
the once endless monologue slowing to a trickle
until
...nothing.
no poetry, no words,
no stanzas pushing at my lips and itching my fingers
to be released.
i thought, "if i've lost my poetry, what am i?"

he told me that my voice sounded like the chiming of church bells,
hauntingly beautiful and sure.
he told me that i tasted like the skin of a grapefruit,
sweet then sour
not long before i became tough.
i never knew what to make of that.
he told me that i felt like a rose petal,
soft and delicate
fragile enough to rip with the twisting of fingers
but strong enough to make it through the storm.
and through everything
i thought it was love,
i thought he took my breath away
but really i was suffocating on his empty words.
what i never told him
but will now,
is that
church bells scare me
i hate grapefruit
and i am stronger than a flower,
strong enough to survive the storm
that was him.

You are a novel
gathering dust on my shelf
but not because I don’t want to read
but because I’m afraid
to turn the page,
afraid of how you’ll end

Melancholy.
A pretty word
with such a sad heart.
Makes you wonder
what made it so.

Melancholy.
The way it's said
so passively,
inattentively,
ignorantly,
makes me want to
scream.

Melancholy.
The word is reverent
and should be treated so.
A beautiful expression
to be used with care,
if you please.

Melancholy.
It's not sickly sweet
like some of the others,
yet not too sour either.
A little bit salty,
like tears.
But really,
who hasn't tasted their own?

Melancholy.
The word flows like a river
of tears down a cheek.
One filled with regret,
sorrow, loneliness.

Melancholy.
The more I say it
the more I like it.
The way it drifts,
and takes my thoughts with it.
Not to a happy place,
but a place of quiet,
sad thoughts.

Melancholy.
Even the word itself
draws me to it.
I think it is,
in part,
because I relate.
Sometimes,
it seems,
we are all
melancholy.
And I am but one
in a million
who feels it too.