and when you complain
about the bite you receive
do not forget
who sharpened these teeth.

— you taught this dog to bite

between numb and nothing,
i was somewhere in between.
where you felt lonely,
i felt relief.

— we had two very different endings

lips wrapped in regret,
the bitter taste of betrayal.
tipsy-tongued we tangled,
breaking all the rules at once.

— i asked if you’d remember when i should've asked if you'd regret

i am in love with the ocean,
and while he is beautiful and strong,
he is turning my heart into a cliff.
eroding me away,
bit by bit.

— i'm afraid soon there will be nothing left
​

i thought it would be easier this time
but it wasn’t,
it never is.
those last goodbyes,
that last kiss,
it never is,
it never is.

— saying goodbye never gets easier

sometimes i feel like a dog
loyal to its owner for all the wrong reasons
always returning with a wagging tail
after being hit
starved
beat
and abandoned.

— separation anxiety

how fitting, i thought,
that it rained the day you left.
a torrential downpour
took away all my breath.
but as quick as it came it left
and the rain ceased to be
and i was left in the dark of my car
just the sound of the road beneath me.

— to say i miss you would be an understatement

when roses rooted in your heart,
you let their beauty grow.
but in the beauty of their blood red petals,
you forgot about their thorns.

— beware what lies beneath the beauty

we were like strangers who knew each other very well, meeting for the first time in a fleeting moment. our bodies foreign to each other’s touch, all passing glances and timid hands, but it could never last too long. someone always had to go, someone always had to return home, and there was never enough time. we’d become strangers again, dreaming of good morning i love yous spoken in tongue, written between skin, read between limbs. and slowly memory would fade, skin on skin fall faint, until all remnants of our existence withered away.


― until we meet again

ever since i was little, i have always imagined where i wanted to live, a dream home if you will. it has never really changed, it’s always been about the same. somewhere soft and secluded, surrounded by the trees and flourishing with flowers and fauna. where moss grows on the stone path and walls and rolls off the roof. a place where old souls live, full of mists and fogs of early morning mystery.

it had to rain often, i loved the rain, the smell, the sound. rolling over in the early morning to the gentle rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops against the rooftop, the distinct perfume of petrichor wafting through a cracked window. i always wanted water nearby too, i’ve always loved the water. a pond, a lake, a river, a creek, anything really, if there was water i was happy. i didn’t want a very big house either, rather something small, something that made me feel warm, cozy, comfortable. and i wanted big windows, it needed to have a room with big, tall windows to look out of, something to let the sun shine in and soak up my melancholy thoughts, shine the shadows away. more than anything i dreamed of a home full of love.

but when i dreamed of my home, built its walls and designed its decor, i never imagined i’d find my home in a person. i never imagined i’d find my forest alive in your eyes, ever changing colors of the earth and sky ablaze in your soft and loving gaze, the sun lacing through the leaves in your smile, my sunshine. i never imagined i’d find the rhythm of the rain with my head against your chest and hand entangled in your own, listening to the life in your heartbeat. i never thought i’d find my mystery in the mists of your mind, brilliant beyond belief and capable of crafts and creations far beyond the depths of mine own. my warm, my cozy, my comfortable.


― you are my home

we were like strangers who knew each other very well, meeting for the first time in a fleeting moment. our bodies foreign to each other’s touch, all passing glances and timid hands, but it could never last too long. someone always had to go, someone always had to return home, and there was never enough time. we’d become strangers again, dreaming of good morning i love yous spoken in tongue, written between skin, read between limbs. and slowly memory would fade, skin on skin fall faint, until all remnants of our existence withered away.


― until we meet again