I have a suspicion there is something I am supposed to be looking forward to.

Is that you?

I guard myself from feeling because I don’t want the hurt.

I keep myself from falling because I’m afraid of the bruises.

It’s absurd how much I care about a ******* like.
The value subconsciously derived from a double tap.
Refreshing the page again and again.
You are valid, important, and loved... even if that picture you posted on Instagram recently performed like ****.

If something triggers an unexpected love-struck memory quick enough, my heart still skips a beat.

It forgets he isn’t real.
He never was the man I fell in love with.

I didn’t need this city to create magic.
I needed me - fully unleashed, raw and unapologetic.

LA was just the place I finally allowed that to manifest.

Some things we feel are real.
Some are not.
The phantom phone vibration in your pocket.
The effects of the placebo pill.
The spiritual awakening.
The new disciple who was touched by God.
We can feel anything if we want it bad enough.

“It’s so close I can feel it.”

Are the hymns sung in every pew in vain?
Are we all just trying to feel something?


But then again, who knows.
Your lips feel Holy to me.

I am not damaged.
I am loved and lovable.
I will continue to open myself to love.
Radiate it.
Seek it out.
Call it out.
I will be the love I am searching for.