Down the street
I will meet
The girl that changed everything
Taught me to love
Hate
And reciprocate
We don't talk much anymore
Talking is such a bore

I like to think
She thinks
About that loser
But if she did
Then he wouldn't be
Behind this screen
Talking so clean

I know it's over
I know Clover
And we only hung out
When I was sober
I don't regret it
I'm actually glad
Because then i was
stupid, mean, and bad

This isn't making light
Or making sense
But making love
Wasn't a penance
Making me who i am
Is a million and one thanks

So thank you
Whatever you're doing
If you're moving
Or soothing
Someone else at night
Because, for a while,
You were my only light

                                                          ­                  With Love,
                                                           ­                                       **E.H.

my aunt told me that the good thing about pain
is that you can remember it after it's gone,
but you can never recreate the feeling.
I think this is why I kept going back for more.

In my mind, I break things.
I throw picture frames at walls
shatter the vase of wilting flowers
shove books out of their cases
rip apart their pages,
tear away their seams until they are back
to an incoherent soup of letters
and their well meaning themes and phrases
have become but what my life is,
poignant and pathetic.

There is nothing, no reaction.
I wreck havoc in my head
while I give a picture of composure
as you lecture me on how to live my life
when yours is nothing but in shambles.

In my mind,
I run away, take a train and live
to see brighter days.

It's one of those days,
where I remind myself not to let go yet.
But one of these days,
I'm walking out in to the sea and all you'll see
are the specks of gleaming water in the breeze.

By now,
I am just so **** sick of caring

Don't ask me what I see in him because
I do not know the answer to that question,
It's the way he says my name ,
the way he brings out every vowel and consonant.
It is the huskiness in his voice,
the melody in his tone.
It may be the way he smiles,
how his lips curve when he opens his mouth,
how his lips feel when they press against mine.
No, It's his compelling eyes,
they seem to get me to do anything he pleases
like, going down on my knees and...
Yeah, it's his hands,
the feeling I get when they brush against my skin.
it is his arms.
The way he holds me tight
when I'm feeling down or cold.
it is probably his scent
the way I can smell him from a distance
and then get all jumpy inside.
It is how he makes me come,
over on Friday nights and we watch movies
even though he knows how much I hate movies.
It is because he asks me how I'm doing
and actually cares.
It is the way he tickles me
and it actually does not hurt.
It is actually because he makes me feel alive.
He makes me feel like I'm human.

I've been hit by a wave of helplessness

A feeling of imminent something
that's about to happen

I see it most, clouded in red, when I'm in my room faced with a mountain of "not done yet"

I feel it most when on scales, unevenly balanced and soon to tip

Stay? Go?
Hold on? Let go?

I'm with it most when I see the boxes spilling from every corner of my life

Memories screaming dont leave me
Don't leave me

I live it most when tearing down photos, ripping down paintings,
giving away keepsakes

I taste it in the air when I'm driving with the windows down,
Wind roaring at me, children's rhymes taunting

I can smell it in the foods I eat,
the restaurants I might never see again

I hear it loudest in the words I speak, goodbyes all waiting at the back of my tongue
Yet shy of hellos still to come

I live it when I pack my bags,
zip and unzip my suitcases

I am tortured by it while I consolidate my life down into a single box

A feeling
A valley
A sinking, dreaded chasm

I'm standing on the edge

Of unfinished business

She smiled because she could see the
bottom.
The concrete looked calm from high above,
like a broken wave coating the damp, warm sand.
Crickets sang out through the darkness
but the roaring of the ocean
drowned them out.

It was darker than dark
and quiet enough to breathe.

Perfection.

Her final breath sent her over,
gliding toward the waves
floating on a cloud.

Finally, freedom.
Silence.
Darkness.

As she neared the ground, she reveled in
her weightlessness.
It was joyful, for the first time
since him.
It was riveting, inspiring, unique, unimaginable.

Ending.
It was ending.

The ocean was not giving.
It did not wash her away.
It did not wash away the hurt.

She heard a scream, and footsteps.
Her smile, her joy, her revelation
disappeared.

Why could she still hear the screams?