I saw her there for the first time some years ago,
Her hair was dark and curly,
It glistened from the corner lamp with a candle that burned slowly. She rocked there back and forth, staring out the window.
The man she chose, whose face I shared, had left to chase a dream.
I felt inclined to touch her, her skin as white as mine,
She turned her head to look at me and then began to cry.
She put me on her lap and said, “Baby, let me tell you a little story.” Her eyes were wet as she first recounted her days of youthful glory.

The year she said...was 1987.
She called him T, he called her M, never a pair as close as them.
He loved her deeply, she loved him madly, but to her mother, he was unworthy.
She cried all day, and cried all night the day she broke his heart,
“But why?” he asked, “Please don’t,” he begged as she began to turn away.
She paused a beat to look at him, to see the face she so adored, but it hurt too much, it was too much, and she quickly shut the door.

Clocks ticked by, weeks trailed on, and years passed before she knew it.
She’d been divorced and left, with two children by her side,
Her dreams of finding what she had with T, died when she became another's bride.
When he was gone, she lost herself.
She cut her hair, she stayed in bed
She spent her days dreaming of a life that she once led.

That’s when he found her.
That’s when she let him take her.
He was a talker, he was a charmer,
He made her feel safe, and important, and wanted.
But what she would learn is that he was no hero.
He was a user, a drunk, and a forceful abuser.
She took it all though, thinking no other good man would want her.

That’s when I saw her there.
She was once again staring out the window.
Her hair had lost color, no longer as dark, but still just as curly. I asked her a question, and she turned looked at me blankly. “Come here my baby, let me add more to the story.”
She said, “T loved me more with each changing season.
He said he’d do anything for me, at least within reason.
We’d talk about our future, I’d take his name,
I’d love him forever, he’d do the same.
But I was so stupid, so scared and so weak.”
More words came out as the tears fell down her cheeks.

That’s when the drunk came in, and saw her hurt and forlorn,
He was as angry as the devil, just missing his horns.
“What is wrong with you? Get up and wash your face,
you look ugly when you cry, come on, get up, pick up the pace!”
It was a few years later that she mustered up some courage,
She filed for divorce and put an end to her terrible second marriage.
Life got better I thought, after he left our home,
but she still sat there at the window and sad and all alone.
Her hair was still curly, but it was losing its bounce,
It had gone grey in the long years with that louse.
I asked her, “Why do you sit here day in and day out?
There’s still a world out there, more to love, more to learn about. It’s time to finally chase your dreams! You can start anew!
You can be anyone, there’s nothing you can’t do!”

She looked at me and smiled grimly,
“Ah my child, you are sweet, but don’t act silly.
It’s over for me. There’s no future that’s bright.
I let go of my dreams when I said goodbye that night.
There was once a time. when I was like you,
I believed in miracles and heaven,
but that was another time and place...it was 1987.”
I looked at her in disbelief.
How could she be so lost?
How terrible it must be to believe she’d done so wrong that she must pay such a cost.

I saw her there just last night, just talking to herself,
I thought that she was praying until she put
something into a book up on the shelf.

When she went to bed, I was curious to know
what she had held.
I quietly opened the book and found a
photograph.
It was of a boy, who appeared not much older
than myself.
It was black and white with weathered edges on
the side.
Why did she feel this was something she should
hide?
On the back there was something handwritten.
It read: T, 1987

The other day I looked at some photos,
Memories played before me as if they were live.
How funny the way time moves and the way life goes,
What feels like a day was really 365.

So much can change in a year.
What you want, who you love, what you fear,
365 days can either give or take away all you hold dear.

For me, a year has brought me plenty,
New hair, new friends, another year in my 20s.

But what a year hasn't changed,
Is the way that I feel.
Between you and I, no words have been exchanged,
A year has done nothing, no wounds have been able to heal.

Some nights I'll look again at those photos and still shed a tear.
In time things will get better, check back again this time next year.

Bzzt​ ​Bzzt​ ​goes​ ​the​ ​silent​ ​vibrating​ ​ring​ ​of​ ​your​ ​phone
You​ ​get​ ​excited​ ​because​ ​you’re​ ​bored​ ​and​ ​all​ ​alone

Thump​ ​Thump​ ​goes​ ​your​ ​heart​ ​when​ ​you​ ​see​ ​who​ ​it​ ​is
You​ ​look​ ​at​ ​the​ ​name​ ​and​ ​see​ ​that​ ​it’s​ ​​his

You​ ​wait​ ​a​ ​beat​ ​to​ ​not​ ​seem​ ​too​ ​eager
But​ ​simply​ ​can’t​ ​wait​ ​and​ ​oops,​ ​there​ ​go​ ​your​ ​fingers

You​ ​wait​ ​a​ ​few​ ​minutes,​ ​pretend​ ​you​ ​don’t​ ​care
But​ ​there​ ​goes​ ​the​ ​bzzt ​again,​ ​you​ ​know​ ​something’s​ ​there!

Thump​ ​Thump​ ​goes​ ​your​ ​heart​ ​again​ ​as​ ​you​ ​look​ ​to​ ​see​ ​what​ ​was ​said

It​ ​was​ ​just​ ​your​ ​friend Ella,​ ​so ​you​ ​check​ ​your​ ​convo​ ​again
LOL​, ​SORRY​ ​*****,​ ​YOU​ ​GOT​ ​LEFT​ ​ON​ ​READ!

I’ve heard that some see the world in poetry,
And that some see the world in prose.
Some stop to cry out “Oh, woe is me!”
Some just think “Welp, that’s just the way life goes.”

Some things just don’t go the way you plan,
Some things just fall apart or they break,
Baked goods aren’t always perfect out of  the pan.
Think your life is bad? Someone else’s may take the cake.

Sometimes life really is awful, it’s okay to complain,
Sometimes the more one runs, the more one tumbles,
We often get bruised and feel all kinds of pain,
But alas, sometimes the ball just fumbles,
And we watch the way the cookie crumbles.

The cookie always crumbles in uneven fragments,
So naturally someone always get a bigger piece,
But I’ve found that life has a way of finding its balance,
And when I am alone at night, it brings me peace.

You sit there alone in the dark,
The you before him,
The you you are now,
The contrast is visibly stark.

You sit criss cross on your bed,
Lashes damp, eyes burning, and red,
It’s just after midnight,
You feel pathetic,
You replay it all in your head.

You start with the day that you met,
It was a Tuesday,
An ordinary day,
The kind you’d forget.

But then it all changed,
Smiles, handshakes,
And names were exchanged.

On the surface,
It was incredibly customary,
It was simple, unmemorable,
Painfully ordinary.

What made this different,
You weren’t sure,
Your feelings illogical,
So child-like, so juvenile,
So immature.
“You’re better than this.”
In the moment you thought.
In fact, you kept saying this,
As the days, weeks, and months went on.

“Get it together!”
You’d scream in the mirror.
Time had done nothing,
Your thoughts were no clearer.
You pace back and forth,
All sensibility in danger,
How could so much be felt,
So deeply, for a virtual stranger?

You felt ridiculous and crazy,
Your sanity lacking,
This next part gets hazy
All you remember are your fears, your panicking .

Was it coincidence, fate, or divine intervention?
Whatever it was,
Your next meeting came with no planning, no intention.
This one was longer,
There was more than a greeting.
You were a mess, a goner,
You could hear your heart beating.

But it was okay,
You kept your composure,
Better than you thought you would,
No liquid aid, totally sober.
This meeting made a friend out of the “virtual stranger,”
It was progress, a milestone,
But a detrimental, emotional game changer.

You hated yourself, you wanted more,
Your feelings grew stronger,
Angry, always present,
They refused to be ignored.

You drove yourself nuts,
You overthought,
But there was no one to blame,
No one at fault.

You were painfully afraid of rejection,
So you never made your move.
Every touch you thought was just platonic affection.
You fought your emotion like you had something to prove.

You had plenty of chances to get what you wanted,
But what you didn’t account for?
You weren’t the only one charmed,
You weren’t the only one haunted.

Now it’s too late,
To another, your charmer has made a promise
You were too busy being a little *****,
And just couldn’t bear to be honest.

So congrats, Heartbreaker!
You’ve earned the title!
Go on, do what you do best,
Fake a smile!

Go ahead, take a seat upon your throne!
It really is a pity though.
The only heart that appears to be broken is your own.

I’d like to say I’m over it,
I mean, I really wish I could.
It really is about time I quit,
But this pang has got me good.

I know I’m not the first one,
Heartbreak is chic, it’s classic.
It’s likely older than the Moon and Sun,
Felt in times Jurassic.

The truth can’t be sugar coated
I can say no, and deny, deny, deny,  
I’m Sandy, I’m hopelessly devoted,
And not the first to cry.

This all feels so stupid and melodramatic,
I try to deal with charm and wit.
It only really hurts when things are slow and static,
I can’t wait ‘till the day I’m really over it.

You know, I used to think you were everything,
You were God's Special gift.
Around you I was so giddy,
I felt like dancing to swing.  

I used to think the sun shone out of your ***.
I died inside each time I could make you laugh.
I got down on my knees to pray for you at mass.
I wanted my love for you commemorated on my epitaph.

Your name *** everywhere I turned.
I thought they were signs so harder I yearned.

But time is a funny thing.
With it, what was once a  gentle caress,
Can become a bitter sting.

With time I learned you weren't God's gift,
You were just a *******.

Around you my heart still flutters and beats too fast,
But only because you're an *******,
And I want to kick your ***.

I still pray for you, but only because you've lost a good thing (me).
It's done, I've finally broken the spell (free).

Truth is, I really do see your name everywhere,
But only because your name is that generic.
You're not a gem, you're not that rare,
My wasted time is tragic.

This poem is mean and petty,
I'm usually more kind and demure.
But right now my words are cool and steady,
Things are different now, of that you can be sure.

I've said goodbye, I've shut the door.
I used to love you more than life itself,
But now I love me more.

As a Child I loved to play pretend;
It was my favorite game.
As I grew older, I was no different;
You could say it was the same.

I took the stage for the sound of laughter;
I took the stage for praise.
I seldom broke my character,
Even when backstage.

I tried to give them everything they wanted;
Always doing the most, going the extra mile.
I tried to give them everything they needed;
Always with a smile.

It was enough to see them happy;
To see the hurt just fade away.
Even if just for a moment;
It was enough to just make their day.

But then you walked into my life;
And the game I loved had changed.
Your smile was the only one that mattered,
The only one desired, the only one I craved.
The character I knew so well;
Seemed so old and overplayed.

I tried my best to keep my act up;
But my resolve was growing weak.
My thoughts of you would not subside;
Around you I could hardly speak.

But when I could, I was truly happy;
The hurt they never saw just faded away.
Even if I was with you just for a moment;
Your smile could make my day.  

I grew to care for you immensely;
I thought I hid it well.
I played it cool intently;
It got harder as I fell.

I looked so different around you;
My cheeks took on a rosy hue.
I took on a different role around you;
I was a fresh-faced ingénue.

Last year you sat beside me;
You asked if someone had my heart.
This moment called for honesty;
But I panicked, and well,
Some old habits just die hard.

I looked ahead, not looking you in the eye;
I did what I did best
I played pretend,
And I told the greatest lie.

Why I did this?
I don’t l know.
Maybe I loved the drama;
Drama always made for a better show.

I often think about that night;
And how I went from cool to cold.
My heart breaks and tears fall as I write;
I only have myself to scold.

I took a final bow that night;
I prematurely said “The End.”
I should have put up a tougher fight;
But I showed cowardice instead.

It's like I'm little girl again,
Now with a broken heart to mend;
Because when I think of you, what could have been,
I can only play pretend.

I sit there,
Fingers tapping the table,
I’m going nuts,
My condition unstable.

Should I do it? Should I not?
I feel panic,
Liquid courage I think!
I’ll just take a shot!

I’m a lightweight,
So that doesn’t help,
I’m self-sabotaging,
I do this to myself.

Is this wrong? Is this right?
I think,
I think I should do it,
You’re all I think about at night.

Wow that was creepy,
I take it back,
Only actually not really,
I totally meant that.

But if I do it, what will it mean?
My heart’s skipping like crazy,
I’ve had too much caffeine.

I go outside needing some air,
Even if I did do it,
What of it?
You may not even care.

God this is awful,
Embarrassing, and totally lame.
I decide to listen to music,
But all that I hear sung is your name.

Frankly, I don’t even know you,
Well I do, but not well enough.
Ugh, you’re not even that great.
What *******, I’ll call my own bluff.

I go back inside, pray the Ave Maria,
I wanna throw up.
Ah ****,
That shot was a bad idea.

***** this,
***** you,
Why can’t I handle this?
I’m pushing 22.

I feel so lonely in this,
I’m like a teenager, nobody gets me.
I hate sports,
But I have to give it to Gretzky,
I've gotta do it now,
For my own sanity's sake!
That ****** is right,
“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

So I stand at the free throw line,
My typing is my dribble,
The “send” tab is my jump,
I lift my finger, and there it goes,
I’ve officially shot my shot.


                                       “Hi :)”
                                        Read at 5:41 p.m.

The End of the World

“It’s the end of the world!”

No, it’s just Monday.
Not a cloud in the sky,
But it still feels like doomsday.

Like Frost, you’ve tasted desire.
It hurts like a mother,
And is as subtle as a house is on fire.

Like Frost, you’ve known hate,
Hate for yourself, hate for your vice.
You play it so cool, you freeze into ice.
Ice numbs the pain,
And for now will suffice.

But when the heat of desire melts what is frozen,
And what has long gone unspoken is finally heard,
All must heed the poignant and heart-stopping omen,
Because what happens next feels like the end of the world.

There once was a young woman, who gave too many *****
If you asked, she might’ve even given you two or three

From the ***** she’d given,
Some said she loved too much,
She cared too much,
Or was just simply too naïve,

She thought she knew what she was doing,
She knew the world was cruel,
She knew that there’d be losses,
She knew she often played the fool,
She thought there were no other options,
She did what she had to do,
So in spite of it all, everyday she’d go out and try her luck,
And if she got burned, “Well,” she’d say,
“That’s just the price I paid today for giving one too many *****.”

At night she’d stay up worried
For she was lost you see,
Her life she felt had passed her by,
Far too rapidly
She was young and scared of life
Always attempting to keep things to herself,
Keeping it all much too airy and much too light
She seldom got the things she wanted, scared to hurt the one’s she loved,
So often kept silent, never making a mess, still always giving one too many *****

Not too far away, lived an interesting young man
He was the opposite you see,
For not a single **** on any day gave he,

He was strange, he had no fears
He lived his life like he was running out of time
Like he was running low on living years

He seldom cared what people thought
Usually gaining what he sought
He took chances, he took risks
You raised him five, he raised you six

He was handsome, he was funny, he was smart
He’d always let you pick his brain,
Whatever it was, science, politics, art
But if it was his heart you were after, you’d get nothing,
Not half, not a quarter, not a single part



Some said he was too dark inside
Had too much anger
Or just too much pride

He thought he knew what he was doing
He knew the world was cruel
In stride he took his losses
Seldom did he play the fool
He thought he knew all his options, and with confidence he chose,
And if he got burned, “Well” he’d say,
“That’s was a hefty price I paid today, but you know what?
I just don’t give a ****.”

It was late in the year, just as he leaves were turning brown,
They were both running errands, in their busy college town,
She stopped for some coffee, he stopped for some tea,
She sat down, as he was looking for a seat

She saw him coming, as he was walking by,
That’s when the chair at the table beside her caught his eye,
So he too sat down, and began sipping his tea
What happened next came naturally, organically

He asked her for her name,
She smiled and then did the same
As they spoke, he could tell she was quiet,
And she could tell that he was awfully direct,
Despite this they spoke, for hours on end.
At least this is the story they would tell when people asked how they met.

As they spoke, she wasn’t sure,
She knew that somehow they’d crossed paths before.
As she blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear,
For him, a distant, hazy memory became clear.

They had matched on Tinder,
Sometime just as the fall breeze turned into the bitter chill of winter.
She was hoping to get cuffed for the season.
He was on there for much different,
Much less pure reason.
When asked if she was DTF,
She ghosted.
Both were left disappointed and bereft.

They never spoke again.

The end.

They say that there are other:
Fish in the sea,
Eggs in the carton,
Chips in the bag,
Flowers in the garden.

But he’s not a fish,
He’s not an egg,
He’s not a chip,
He’s not flower

He’s him, a person,
And me? I’m a coward.

I sit here alone,
I’ve given fear all my power.

I guess he’ll never know.
What an absolute ******.

Some truths are told in anger,
Some truths are told in vain,
Sometimes there’s value in candor,
Sometimes truth just causes pain.

Some truths told aren’t told on purpose,
Some come out without consent,
Some when told do a great disservice,
No matter how honorable their intent.

Some truths are never told,
Away in drawers they’re kept,
Things gilded still shine like lustrous gold,
And dry are tears long wept.

I once had a truth I tried to speak,
But it was spoken by another prematurely,
I saw it happen, my voice was weak,
I handled it like a child and far too immaturely.

What was exposed could not be taken back,
It was a point of no return,
I was indignant, it all turned black,
I wanted the world to burn.

And burn it did,
But only mine,
Down hard I slid,
The real world was fine.

With time gone by, I must admit a lesson I learned,
The truth really does set you free,
But to whom my truth concerned,
I can only apologize, it should’ve come from me.

I think I know why I can’t let you go,
Although, you were never actually mine.
To be fair, you were never in the know,
I was a coward, I had no guts or spine.

I guess everything in my life was like a transaction,
I wanted my investment to have a return.
Good result was produced by methodical action,
The harder I worked, the more I would earn.

But love doesn’t work that way,
Neither does attraction.
Even if you can’t keep your heart at bay,
Your efforts don’t always merit a reaction.

But hey, c’est la vie.
I may have lost a lot of time,
But I’m still young, I’m still me,
And I heartbreak inspires rhyme.