i've been looking for any excuse
to talk to you
to text you
to hear from you
but yesterday
i didn't
it was not conscious
it was not purposeful
but it was progress

I really think if you told your mom
You would be surprised
I hope the surprise is that she’s there for you
And that she finds the right words
Because she’s your mom
And if the surprise is hurtful
Remember the words you told me once
She may be grieving
Not because she is disappointed
But because she didn’t know
Because she doesn’t really know what it all means
Because she couldn’t find the right words at the right time
But more importantly,
Because she was the last to know
Mothers don’t like to be the last to know
We were once the first to see everything
Then we were demoted
Yet we saw more then we got credit for
Now that our children are grown and gone
It’s different
We rely on tidbits, small talk, holiday visits, sibling rumors
Mothers are often the last to know
But no matter what
And no matter how we react
When we are finally told
Or if we are never told
Every secret
Every heartbreak
Every silly encounter
A mother’s love is so strong
Our love is forever
I really think if you told your mom
You would be surprised

heart break is a great
writing prompt
and yet
i so badly wish
i had nothing
to write about

how come when i have a thought so powerful and it makes me feel happy
i can’t hold on to it
but when i have a thought so devastating and it makes me sad
it stays in my mind all the **** time

i should have taken it as sign
when you told me
you hated poetry
not because
i need you to like
everything i like
or i need you to appreciate
everything i appreciate
but because
when i told you
what it felt like for me
to write poetry
and to read poetry
the feeling of being
grounded and understood
all at once
the feeling of
having somewhere to escape to
and finding a home
you still told me
you hated poetry

when we were together
i only listened to music
i knew you would like
i only wore clothes
that you would like
i only did things
i knew would
would make you happy
and now that there is no we
and i have given you my ribs
to hold you up
i am exposed
but there is nothing left
of me
how long will it take
to find myself
not find myself exactly
but to rebuild myself
into something
that does not revolve around
you

i keep feeling like
i'm asking too much of you
that my expectations are too high
sometimes when i text you
i feel crazy
but maybe
i'm not asking too much of you
maybe i'm not expecting enough for myself

but i'd miss you
and as cliche as it sounds
i'd cross those oceans even if it meant i dissolved in them somewhere along the way
and thats the sad reality of life