To: The brokenhearted girl

And to the boy who broke your heart,
I honestly hope he's happy,
I hope he's pleased with what he had done.
I hope he's sleeping peacefully, because you aren't.

I hope he shivers in pain, when he thinks of you
I hope his ears get tired of hearing your name
Over, and over and over again
Especially on nights when he's restless.
Especially on nights when he can't sleep
Especially on nights when his eye lids won't shut.
I hope he remembers the taste of your lips
And yearns for it when your lips hits the lips of another man.
I hope his dreams are filled with images of you
Images of you happier than ever,
Images of you finding someone that's better.
I hope when he eats, he remembers how your hand cradled the food
How your lips surrounded it and how your jaws turned almost hypnotically as you savoured the food the same way you did to his tongue.

And I hope when the lips of another are on him, they'll feel like yours
And her touch, will feel like your touch,
And her hair,
Her hair ..
I hope it smells like yours.
And I hope the kisses of another, will feel like lashes compared to yours
And i hope their touch, will feel like burns compared to yours
As if he's receiving a punishment for letting you go
As if he's receiving a punishment for falling in the arms of another.
As if he's receiving a punishment for using the word "love" too much.

And i hope the minute he utters "I love you" , he'll remember the times he told you,
He'll remember each one of them as if it was yesterday,
Remember which ones were lies,
Break down in tears
And comes crawling back to you.

But darling, don't forget to tell him it's too late.

Sincerely,
An onlooker
(h.s)

To walk away on Christmas.
I've never felt winter's breeze graze my cheek so sharply.
My heart grows cold as this prolonged night goes on.
I'm frozen.

Four years of my life,
Lost at sea.
Though my heart breaks into falling snowflakes
You had to be free of me.
There was no place left for me in your occupied heart.
This frostbite will sting, until I feel no more.

What warmth that was left in my core has been stolen by this cursed evening.
And as the tears fall from my face onto the desolate ground,
I stand there frozen.
Lost. At a loss.
I can't breathe.
Every breath is like a gasp for air.

The void in my heart fills with gaping streams of sorrow-filled, silent screams.
And all I can see is utter darkness.

Mama

Surrounded by water, I hold my breath.
Purposefully I sink to the bottom of this place.
My body is still, and my arms crossed like an X over my chest.

I open my eyes and see the blurry light hitting the surface.
Still, I hold my breath.
Every brush of water feels like ribbons against my skin.
But I need to come up.

I gasp for air as I breach the surface.
I walk out of the water as if I were alike royalty, coming up to my throne.
Every speck of air feels like a calming winter mist against my skin.
I stare ahead to the trees.

As I walk through the tall trees,
Barefoot to feel the earth in between my toes,
I feel a sense of welcome and acceptance.
Though they tower over me, you’ve taught them tolerance for my kind.

The dirt I walk upon embraces my feet’s rough exterior.
I stand tall and elongated, rooting myself into the forest ground.
I am rooted, and grow to love you.
Amongst your other children of beauty, you have received me.
And, I need you. Everyday.

Mama

I write because it feels right
in the process of writing
I am creating something

the Divine spark lives in me
and comes to life in the act of creation

even during my darkest suicidal hours,
I could not abandon poetry and art.
the act of creating and destroying
saved me

the process of writing is like my life
I build and destroy,
and in the process
try to grow from the experience