to look back
at my words
tears open old wounds

but perhaps they have stayed open
because i have stopped tending to them.

Do you ever feel like folding into someone
Head against their chest
Limbs tangled
Calm, quiet, safe

I wish I didn't feel this way.

sharing my poetry
is like ripping off a band-aid
to a gushing river of blood

thoughts and feelings
crashing, tumbling
across the rocks
that line the bottom of the river bed

people pick up their pens
drawing
writing
mapping
deciding
all in black and white

but none of those lines are logical
because reality is truly just many shades of gray

the kinds of people that scare me the most
are the ones i feel like have known me forever

when they’ve only just walked in.

i've never been able to let it be before
and let me tell you,
it feels good
and powerful

like what is supposed to happen
will finally happen one day
instead of some what-if forced facade
that comes from pushing the situation

let it be.

i finally admitted to the world
that i chose the new thing

whatever that may be

now, let’s see

i act like deleting texts
means deleting feelings

but i think i'm just avoiding them.

vulnerability either kicks you in the *** or deeply rewards you. there’s no in between.

i heard somewhere:
when one door closes, a window opens.

how strange,
that it is a window which opens,
and not another door.

does the slammed door
create such an intense pressure change
that the window is forced open,
and all of that same energy that left can come rushing back in?
so really, it is not a new opportunity,
but the same cycle?

over and over and over again.

i’ve spent most of my life
avoiding big feelings

ducking from the intensity
that so often leads to disappointment

passion? look away.
anger? let’s table it.
grief? i’m fine.
love? as long as it’s not deep.
happiness? don’t get used to it.
excitement? a waste of time.

so when life threatens to jeopardize
my built-in anesthesia,

i don’t want to wake up.

one month of constantly living
with the energy of a lightening bolt
jolting through me

that lightening bolt?
my brain
where does it strike?
into the deep recesses of my stomach
screaming what i don't want to hear

constantly nauseous
i know what i need to do
but i'm still too scared
of the relentless gut feelings

because those actions
will be the thunder
that shakes my world

"we're highly fallible when it comes to forecasting our feelings."

true and beautiful.

i googled
what does it feel like to miss someone
but i know

I used to be able to recount
every detail of our story

but it has gone on so long now,
I just remember the feelings

because, for better or for worse,
the love has not gone away.

**** a man
who i will never be good enough for

my race
is not what he wants
my faith
not up to par
my outspokenness
to much to handle

yet here i am
clawing onto our marriage

and for what

when i run,
headphones in, music pounding against my ear drums
feet hitting the pavement

i am running from the thought of you
but then, i look to my right...
your ghost, running beside me

i smile, and then we race.

despite what i want you to think
i have not stopped missing you

and that red bubble
that pops up on my phone
every month or so

tells me everything i need to know

that you have not stopped missing me.

i feel you
pushing your way back in

and i know you can feel me
pushing against it

what are you trying to salvage between us?
everything we had has already been lost.

what a name
for a poem
but those are the words
i chant in my head
as i try
and try
to make the right decisions
so history does not repeat itself

that part of the brain
which is not fully developed
until your mid twenties.

well, i am 25.

so get to work, now,
you cerebral prefrontal cortex, you.

i love you.

i want to scream

“won’t you just ******* pay attention to me?!”

but then i remember,
i was the one
who said

“i won’t be reaching out anymore.”

this sunshine,
sure is something

sweet tea
the sugar, softening my heart
and the caffeine, picking up my spirits

i missed you, lover.
please don't go again.