I am the worst murderer of all—
I killed my entire family,
but let them
stay alive.

There is only:
Happy Birthday,
Happy Mother’s Day,
Happy Father’s Day,
Merry Christmas,
Happy New Year.

There is no:
I miss you,
I love you,
When will you come?

I dug their graves
and buried them deep in the ground.
They wounded me immensely.
I gift them
with my nonexistence.

Sometimes I stop and think—
my God, what am I doing?

I tore away all the structures beneath me
and chose to walk on sand—
or on water.

Why?
Why?
Why put myself
in this place of despair,
this ache of uncertainty?

I could have stayed
right where I was
and everything
would have kept flowing.

Wouldn’t it?

I feel betrayed.
You wanted me back
and used faith to lure me in.

And I,
searching for answers in God,
fell for it—
like a fool.

So I came back to you.

You told me
to gather all my things
and leave.

I did.
I didn’t hesitate.

It was as if you had opened
the cage door
that had been keeping me trapped.

I guess I’m sorry
it wasn’t me
who said it first.
But I’m glad—
because this time,
I didn’t let the chance
slip away.

The only thing
you two have in common
is your sign:
Pisces.

And I’m the mermaid
who’s already chosen
which one to keep—
but still,
I wanted you both.

If a heart can tremble,
mine is trembling now.

That thing about the law of attraction—
well,
I imagined my divorce,
imagined myself radiant,
dancing wildly,
happy,
without you.

Look at us —
everything’s falling apart now.

We don’t talk anymore.
We’ve become roommates.
Apartment 403,
welcome.

He works,
I stay home —
that’s the dynamic.

I asked what would become of us,
what you wanted me to do,
and I found myself longing
for you to actually tell me what to do.

If you said, die,
I would die.
Just please —
not in a painful way.

This path
Is more like a bridge
Without rails.

I’m taking baby steps,
I already see the light.

I’m hearing thunder—
Still distant,
But I hear it.

Mommy is coming.

I was never addicted.
I was always starved for affection—
That pleasure I tried to find
Here, in my core,
Was only an attempt to rescue
The girl in her old bed
In that house filled with
Violence,
Neglect.

Where no one ever told her a story
Before she fell asleep,
Where no one ever said
“Good night,
Sleep with God.”

Today,
She’s feeling her way along the walls
Of her cold house,
Trying to find
The path back home.

—It was always about
Feeling loved.

I was working
For a promotion at my job.

Before it could happen,
The job I had quit—
The one that hurt me so much—
Wanted me back.

I said no.
I could never return
To a place
That wounded me so deeply.

The cards now say
You’ll come back,
That you’ll miss my love.

I will say no.
It would be an insult to myself
To go back to someone
Who hurt me
So much.

The past calls us back
Before the future brings
Something better.

Sometimes
you have to go—
take that step,
despite the fear,
despite the uncertainty,
and discover
that in the end,
we always survive
to tell the story.

With each passing day,
I realize I am not alone
in the universe
that there is something greater than me,
greater than everything,
and that this everything
dwells within me.

For so long,
I thought something was wrong
with being empty inside.
But I’ve made peace with my emptiness—
a flute only makes music
when its soul is open wide.

Five of Cups.
I keep clinging
to the spilled wine,
wishing it would return
to the glass—
but it never will.

And now I wonder:
which one of them
is the spilled wine?
Which one
can’t I let go?

I’ve been trying
to be so strong these past days
that I haven’t allowed myself
even a single second
to be
merely weak.

I found out you moved on,
you’re with another woman.

I felt nothing.

I thought I would cry,
tear my hair out over you—
but I think I love myself now.

My weekly therapy sessions worked.

You’re not letting me go.
You’re making everything harder,
slowing down my plans.

Do you still miss me?

I’ve written about this before—
the missing piece.

Yes, the piece is already here.
I don’t need to search for anything.

Who said emptiness must be filled?
Who said it’s even empty?
Couldn’t it be a wound
that only needs to heal?

I am already whole.
I just need to be aware of it—
and that
is the hardest part.

The pain
that tears through my chest,
from top to bottom—
there are no words
to truly describe it.

It is only
pain.

You chose to move on
and I respect that.
I’m sorry—
truly, deeply sorry—
for destroying us.

I miss us.
I miss the love
that was more attachment
and dependence
than anything else,
but still—
it was something.
It was family.

My mind
keeps whispering
that what I’ve done
is unforgivable.

— I am not worthy

One day,
these tears will stop falling.
The well will run dry,
and I will be able
to smile again.

I climbed out of a well
and swore
I’d never go back.

But this one is different—
it carries
the bitter taste
of suffering.

Crying is part of it.
So is regret.
And yes—if it could ****,
I’d already be dead.
But by my own hand,
not because he destroyed me.
(I wouldn’t give him
that pleasure.)

Seeing you happy,
traveling to a place
we once planned to go,
leaves a bitter taste
and makes my stomach tremble.
I wish I were there with you.
I feel I’ve lost so much
I feel I’ve lost
us.

I will respect you.
You did it
you climbed out of the hole
you once called home
and you flew.
Fly, my love,
you are free
to soar.

I want to rewrite my love story
I want to live a love, yes
intense,
romantic,
but healthy.
A love where we grow together
without me losing
myself.

I can be a woman
I can be feminine
I can be a girlfriend
I can be a wife
I can be a mother
I can be all these things at once
and still be me
I can be everything I want to be
not to save someone
not to heal someone
but because this is who I am
it’s how I came into this world

Like a tree
I have lived
Every mark I carry
is one of my victories
scars of war
That’s why
I love myself
because I am still here

They told me
that the more time passes
after a breakup
the more we tend to think
poorly of our ex-partners
I don’t want to think badly of you
But with each of our misencounters
I find more reasons to believe
I was married to a madman

"Are you on ***?"
"I'm talking to you nicely and you come at me with rudeness"
This… is you
reacting to the version of me
that sets boundaries

We talked
ate
kissed
I leave
and feel empty
Because the moment I walked
through my front door
I wasn’t going to find you
I was looking for
the part of me
that’s missing

The life we built together
feels centuries away
I can’t remember it anymore
but I know it existed
Sometimes
I’m startled
I no longer have you
Sometimes
it makes me desperate
Sometimes
it makes me
incredibly happy

I will take all this pain
anxiety
nervousness
and turn it into poetry
Sometimes it will come out beautiful
Sometimes it will come out raw
Both
are deeply spiritual