I know you won't read this
Your eyes will meet my name and take on the role of ignoring
They will do their best to avoid its presence
And eventually it will be a skill done almost subconsciously,
Forgetting me

I know you won't respond
If I ask you what happened
If I were to wonder aloud what changed enough to make you do the same
I'm not quite sure you even know the answer
And I'm quite sure I'll never pose the question

I wonder how it is that no one ever told you not to love a writer
Or worse than that, pretend to
These word-wringing hands belong to a body with a heart made of glue
Attachment forms if you get too close,
I am telling you that you did

It's clear that no one ever taught you caution
To be careful with the girl who cares much more than she should,
Who will love you more than you ever asked for
You crossed a line written in red and the footprints are still there

I know you won't remember
The way your lips met my forehead when you said goodnight or how the same ones told me I was beautiful
Your hands formed craters in my back and now I don't know how to fill all of the empty
I am used to an excess of space,
Of vacant but this
Is just too much

I know you won't understand why it is that
People like me always let strangers inside
We open the door without looking through the peephole
And take in whatever the wind blows with open arms
It is a mistake I am not sorry for repeating
You were just one of many

I know you won't read this
I know you won't try to
You will probably see my name and move on the way I probably should have already
You will laugh at my vulnerability like being bare isn't something that takes strength
You will remember my thighs, the unsteadiness of my laugh, the freckle I pointed out above my cheek, my warmth
You will hear my voice in the title
You will see the word poetry and immediately say no thank you
And I will continue keeping the idea of you alive in a language you don't care to comprehend

I know you won't read this
I know you won't try to
But if you do,
Know more than anything else,
I didn't write this for you
I wrote it for myself.

No one loves me
I'm not worth a single drop of blood

It would be wasted
If you spilt it for me

And dry your tears
For I'm the only one that has to cry

This time,
So there's no use shedding them for me

Sometimes, I wish I knew
How to disappear completely

So no one would remember my voice
Have no memories with me

I feel like life
Would merrily move along

If I were just simply
Gone
                     Gone

    Gone.

flawed to near insanity
but long as you could hold down a job then its alright
isn't that a wise policy she asked
i'm not so sure
watching the clowns strut their stuff
in the midnight sun
they are reckless to be certain but self aware to a fault
just makes it all the more bizarre
watch em go at it with each other over the simplest thing
its no way to live
you can vouch for the living as long as you haven't died
and this madness is just shy of being in a pine box
so darling lets get outa this crazy place
get away from the thinking
that you gotta be like everybody else
get away from the plastic hippie rat-race
roll down the easy highway
find us some sweet sunshine to breath in
find us a better life to be

Sunday* had soul
Jazz flew out from the windows
The sidewalks eyed each other
From across the dance floor,
Monday felt heavy
All the violins awoke from their slumber
The leaves jumped off the branches
And let the wind take away their wishes
Tuesday bloomed
Daisies reached from between the cracks
Gardens broke free of the fences
The birds whispered songs to the petals
Wednesday brought God
Nestled between pressed together palms
Looking to the sky for answers
The black of the night held so much silence

I spent my night with him tonight
Wrapped up in covers
Wrapped up in dreams
He consoled me of all of my troubles
And reminded me that life is not all as it seems

There was some magic tonight
He made me believe in love again
Like when we first were together
Staying out past 2 a.m.
Hiccuping from laughing so hard

The connection we had returned again
And He inspired me
Instead of you, to keep writing

The way he looked at me,
The way he held My hand,
The way he smiled that smile.

You are not my muse anymore
That's why I wanted to give up writing
Because everywhere I turned, you were waiting for me
In every blank Title (optional)
In any poem I read, I found you.

But the freeing thing I realized tonight
By lying in his arms
Is that poetry is what I make of it
I can read a poem about love
And it doesn't have to make me think of you
Because I have so many other wonderful people in my life
I can write about other things than heartbreak and memories
I can write of hope and happiness

So yes, you were the reason I started writing poetry
But that doesn't mean that you should be the reason I stop.

I think it's time to say goodbye
To Hello Poetry completely
It's made me laugh and made my cry
But it hurts me more, secretly

It's my 200th poem and it is the time
To stop writing to a void
To stop rereading poems of love
When I have another choice

My heart keeps hurting with every poem
That reminds me of you and I
So instead of reopening unhealing wounds
I decided to say goodbye

*Goodbye