the worst goodbye
is the one that’s never said.
it’s to the person you still see in the hallways
but you both just act like nothing ever happened.
and some nights, you’ll sit on your bed
at 1am thinking about him, wondering
if he still thinks about you, too.

/a never-said goodbye/

she was a storm
raging with resilience
but whatever you did
must have put her through torment,
because now she is a silent chaos-
and that is a most deadly form.

/a silent chaos/

a constant feeling of angst
worry, grief.
a tension in my bones
growing me older
moment by moment
how can I be expected to carry on
when it feels like
the crushing weight of the world
is on my shoulders?

/atlas/

I have my autumn feet ready to seek out adventure
In a season of brisk winds that chill fingertips,
Frosty-nosed nights spent huddled beside a crackling fire,
Days wrapped up inside a thick, warm blanket
Gently grasping a steaming mug of hot tea.
Where calendar weeks are filled with
The steady rapping of raindrops on windows,
apples grappled from trees to make grandmothers’ famous pie,
and friends gathering to wander down endless rows of corn.
My autumn feet are ready to explore,
They are ready to adventure.

It is in Septembers, Octobers, and Novembers
That Autumn dresses up,
Adorned in warm, golden tones of color,
And waltzes with her prince, The Fall Wind.
But when the clock strikes twelve,
Winter comes along with her December and January Winds,
Snatching up Autumn’s bright apparel
And clothing her in nothing but somber tatters.
Autumn keeps quiet, until the first rays
Of Spring’s long awaited sunshine
Touches the depths of Winter’s dark dungeon.
Autumn is showered with Spring’s rain,
And is coaxed into fashioning a new dress
With the same warm, golden tones of color,
But, this time, in a different pattern.
It is Summer’s sunshine, now, that assists Autumn,
With an occasional July thunderstorm to help form the new dress.
August passes by to give his opinion, and Autumn is finally ready.
For it is in Septembers, Octobers, and Novembers
That Autumn dresses up,
Adorned in warm, golden tones of color,
to waltz with her prince, The Fall Wind.

why did i always have to rebuild myself
when i was with you?
why was it,
that whenever you spoke-
it was harsh and unforgiving,
and all i did was make excuses for you
inside my head.
but you know what the worst of it was?
when you said to me,
'you’d be a wreck if it wasn’t for me'
and you know what I then realized?
'i am a wreck because of you.'

/because of you/

don’t insult me
for loving too strongly
or caring too deeply
or laughing too loudly
how dare you try and tell me
my big, wild heart
is a bad thing.

/big, wild heart/

his heart was murky sea water in january
and curious me bent down to have a look.
“you’re the one” he would whisper.
i didn’t realize what he was saying
was a siren’s song, a shivering-sweet melody
that beckoned me to jump in.
and when i dove head first into those frigid waters
not knowing he would devour me- tear my heart to pieces.
when i swam to the shore damaged and quivering,
not knowing how long it would take to recover- to trust again,
when i screamed at him “liar!”
not knowing it didn’t bother him- he didn’t care,
when i cried for weeks,
no one was there.
no one but me.

/he’s done this before/

You thought he was the sun-
dripping in silken gold.
you thought that the whole world
revolved around him
but, oh dear soul,
when what you thought
was an immortal source of light
never came out one day,
or the weeks to follow-
you realized then
that he was just
a little burning candle light,
meant to last
for only a short time.

we are not equal.
why is it that she,
with her glossy hair
and her expensive wear,
can command attention from
demand affection from
all those around,

but he, with
no place to call home
forced to roam
forget a college
he’ll never learn the knowledge
because he has no silver
to spare

but he works and saves
searching for pennies
day after day
night after sleepless night
just hoping for a maybe
for the sun
to come
in this rainy
age

we are not equal
look at her
and tell me
if you see
the same opportunity
if you see a unity
between rich and poor
between animosity and amour
we are not equal
but we are
human

/human/

i have constellations surrounding me
oceans around me
earth beneath me
and fire in my soul
don’t you ever tell me
i am not as strong as you

/i am validus/

i think the hardest part
of loving was knowing
you might not be loved back-
because trying to cope with
having feelings for someone who doesn’t
have feelings for you
is something i gone through too many times.
and so that is the reason why
i do not love anymore.

/i do not love anymore/

‘i’m over it’
is something
i would say
to everyone
that would ask
because i knew
if i told the truth
i would never move on.
but, man, i’ll still try
to convince myself
that i’m over it.

/i’m not over it/

don’t fall in love with a nice guy.
once it’s all over,
you’ll blame yourself
for everything that went wrong.
because how could it have been him?
he was a nice guy.

/lies about nice guys/

he was so intoxicating
and little old me
never thought
that could be a bad thing.

little old me
never thought
the thing i loved most about him
would put me in storms of hopelessness.

little old me
never thought
indulging in something
that made my head spin
and my heart quiver
would cause me an ocean of damage.

little old me
never thought
i would be in a place
where i would wish for someone
to rip my heart out of my chest,
because i was sick of having to feel
the hurricane of heaving pain
it held from the day he left.

/little old me/

i had mastered the art of pretending
pretending like i didn’t care.
pretending like i was happy.
pretending like it didn’t matter.
‘hold it in,’ and
‘show a soft smile,’ i’d say.
‘let out a little laugh,’
i’d tell myself.

but what i realized was that
my soul was trying desperately
to express itself,
and bottling it up
and holding it in
was slowly destroying me.

so say you are desperately falling for him.
tell that girl her comment was uncalled for.
cry when you’re having a horrible day.
your emotions are raw expressions of your soul-
don’t you harbor them silently inside.

/master of pretending/

i had been trying to find something
in between the texts you would send me.
i had been searching for answers
in the way you would talk to me.
i was driving myself mad
looking for something that wasn’t there.
thanks for leading me on,
after i said not to.
guess that’s what all the guys do
now-a-days.

/now-a-days/

terror was in her heart
panic seeped through her veins
consternation was forced into her hands
and you could see the chaos in her eyes
But she kept her mouth silent
she never said a word
about the self-hatred she had been through
and the torment she had endured

/self-infliction/

never a sound slipped from her mouth
when she snuck her way outside her house
let’s taste a bit of “fun” they said
and told her to drink til the world was red-
when nothing seemed to make sense anymore
when all her thoughts turned into a blur
but no matter how much or how hard she would try
she could never drown her sorrow in wine

/she still drank/

If our souls were fire-
Brandishing our mark on the world;
Burn brighter.

/the first/

she was a diamond
but all you could see
was the coal surrounding her

/the second/

Standing on the lip of a ledge,
Quivering, like a blade of grass in the first autumn breeze.
With raw adrenaline pumping from the top of my head
To the tip of my fingers,
I take deep breath in,
And jump.
The sense of rash, unrefined surf engulfs my body
As I plunge beneath the ill-tempered waves.
My feet taste the thick sand and I shoot up, breaking the surface.

When it was all over
When everything was done
The one thing she hated most
Was the silence that spoke.
When it was all over
When time turned to stone
She stood stolid in ponder
Wondering if she could have tried harder
When it was all over
When skin turned to bone
Her heart still remembers
The fire of those smoldering embers

/when it was all over/

you are a sea of constellations
in an earth cracked with tantamount
you are a turbulent roar
in a room choked with silence
you are a soulful realism
in a society saturated with tedium

/you are sui generis/

you do not need him
to tell you who you are

you do not need him
to be your north star

you do not need him
to cage your wandering soul

you do not need him
to make you fully whole

you do not need him
to calm your hurricane

you do not need him
io put desire in your veins

in fact,
you do not need him.

/you do not need him/