As I lay in a forest that used to appear in my nightmares,
I stare up into the stars wondering if there is life after death...
Because understanding life is equally as complicated as understanding your mind.
I’m just afraid that maybe it will show me that my doubts are much deeper than I thought.
And if I slipped and fell into that hole,
would I have to spend another eternity waking up alone?
Maybe that’s why this forest no longer scares me;
because at least when I am here I can tell myself I have
something to go back to.
With each step taking me further from home,
I place my faith in the wind hoping it will
carry me into the warm embrace of your arms.
But I know that's not how gravity works...
Thus I continue to chase the shadow cast from behind,
because chasing dreams is too overrated.
So please don't ask me if I am doing more with my life other than sitting at home writing poems of my watered down angst.
As I spend my nights walking this forest,
I can't help but wonder how you have been?
if anything you told me was true?

And in the blistering cold of the night
I opened my soul to you.
and you said ‘okay’

Despite intention, I allow thoughts to hold more power than actions. Maybe this is why I’m find myself scribbling words of watered-down heartache...

You know, I read our conversations so much it feels like you were still here. A sequence of muted meanings that holds my weighted body from falling into something much larger than me. But that something is a square ocean that lay between us reminding me that the waves I send can’t quite reach your shore. I’m just surrounded by a digital sea that makes me wonder how reflections in water could be so fake. But maybe if I had just poured my soul into the current and let it reach you, this artificial light wouldn’t make me feel so ******* alone.

It’s been years.
I thought time would wash
over the muddled traces
But it has only left a resentment to the words.
The sense of longing
never quite leaves my chest.
So I pickup the painful memories scattered
here and there.

even though the features I knew so well are fading,
I can’t help but search for your figure.
Your eyes.
At the bus stop, on the street, in the corners of bookstores,
even though I know I won’t see you.

It’s fine though, because when the moon shines through my bedroom window,
you haunt every part of me.
And the words I resented are so clear.

If only I had spoken these three words.. would things have been the same?

Sometimes I wake up and start crying.
Though, for a split second, I forget why.
I do not recall the day or time, or reasons… I am merely alive.
I find myself cherishing this moment because briefly I am at peace. But it does not last long, it can’t.
My feeling of absence nervously awaits until the painful sensation drags me down, embraces me with all its force, then retreats.
I am left alone, stuck.
But I am alive… I  am alive, aren’t I?
No this is all in my head, right?
It’s almost as if my mind keeps searching for something. For someone.
regardless of how much I avoid the truth, it always comes down to y o u.
I spend my days waiting, but the vivid sensation of loss continues to linger.