you are right for me
in so many
wrong ways

you are wrong for me
in so many
right ways

how do I choose?

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

the easiest and the hardest thing to write about
is love.

it is the most unique emotion a human can go through.
everyone questions if love is real.
if love is a feeling
why don't they question
if happiness is real?
sadness?

I believe love is a mixture of everything.
the way you wake up in the morning,
if you have a partner next to you
or not,
you can still feel love.

It doesn't have to be between two beings.
Although lovely,
I find the most beautiful love in myself.

I feel a rush
A need
To jump
Jump back into myself
Like I’m 12 again
Splashing into the Atlantic
For the first time
Letting the saltwater
Overtake my entire soul
Not knowing what pure bliss was
Until that moment

I’m ready to feel that again
No fear
No doubts
Just letting this wave
Take hold of me
And make me
Knowingly better

I lost myself
For a while
But I found me again
With the help
Of others around me
Filling me
With pure beauty
And immense positivity
I feel like I can take on anything


I feel determined
A drive
A sense of self
But more importantly

happy.

Pinot is my favorite.
Three glasses later
we talk about our aspirations
and the future.

One more glass
turns into a 180 spin
how have I not become good enough?
I tell you things I want to learn
but you say I should have learned them already.

Another glass in.
you tell me how great I am
but the things I do daily
make me not good enough for you
how does that make sense?

I understand you're older
but there's a thing called balance,
which you refuse to acknowledge.

I curl up with an Ikea pillow
in the guest bedroom,
the closest thing I have for comfort.

I guess I know now
not to ask
why you didn't get me
flowers
on Valentine's Day.

I see a different world in his eyes,
A world I want to indulge in
But our laughter breaks the stare
And I realize I just to hear
This tune on repeat.
The riddles
he throws at me
Makes my mind go blank,
I'm too busy staring
At the freckles on his face
And wondering if he feels
The same way about me.
I shake my head trying
To configure the lines he conveyed
While I look down and study the bulging veins
on the top of his hands and think
of ways not to get hurt again.

It's only been 24 hours
and the thing I miss most is your smell.
Because I know that when that scent surrounds me,
your arms are holding me tight and
your lips are pressed against my forehead.
There's acoustic music playing in the background
and you smell of Dove soap,
the same soap I have used every time to bathe
since I was five.
But it never smelled that good until I met you.