I am walking, looking, searching around,
looking for truth I may have already found.

I keep asking questions,
I keep losing answers,

Am I strong for searching or weak for being blown off-course?
Should I have gripped more strongly on my long-held beliefs?

Is my fear rational or blind?
Am I Afraid of Something New or was I just Right All Along?

Is there something for feeling in knowing?
Can one trust their intuition?

I went on a date with my ex
A day after what was supposed to be our one year anniversary

It’s almost like it was a first date, that the timing said the clocks reset and it was all new

Everything was perfect, between the tears.

The sun was gentle enough to be warming as his touch, as his fingers danced over my back as we sat on a log, talking non-stop like making up for lost time, but feeling that no time had passed at all.

The wind was sweet and blew my hair just enough for him to brush it away, and his eyes were more beautiful than ever before, though lacquered in tears of longing.

Every silence was punctuated with an “I love you”, sometimes said, and sometimes just felt in the tightening of a hug.

Everything fit together just right, and there was no awkwardness between our bodies as they settled into their comfortable familiarity, his shoulder a perfect rest, and my waist a home for his arms, it was so perfect I almost didn’t feel it at all.

I can’t even write about our kisses, punctuating pauses like commas, illicit like a last cigarette.

Coming out of the conversation, nothing really changed.

Everything he said was perfect, and without a shred of begging or manipulation. Everything was said with deep love and care, but no pretension. No gesture was performative, no sentence rehearsed, but everything he said was the most beautiful poetry.

I knew that while we had both changed so much, although our paths crossed so sweetly, we still were going in different directions.

We walked through an unfamiliar park, somewhere we hadn’t been before, and as we walked back to go, I thought about paths crossing and looping. Maybe we’re on a little loop that will rejoin later, maybe we’re going to just keep getting further apart.

Sometimes I see a tree or a branch that makes me think maybe we’re on the same path again — maybe the wait is over — but I’ve never been here before. He’s never been here before.

We both know what we want (each other), there’s just still something in the way.

I’ll love you forever, and I will treasure today so dearly.

We can’t be together and we can’t really be friends, but I’m not sure how to be apart.

I’ve never really understood running away, but I sometimes feel like I could give it all up for you.

I know you would never ever ask me to, and that’s part of why I love you.

It's so very tempting to love,
even when a clear end is close at hand.
What if I just never reached for that clear end?
What if we just walked along forever, with the end forever close at hand?
If the distance between here and the end can be split in two and twice and thrice again, isn't the end an infinity away, even if near?

what if I never reached out for the end?
What if, instead, we just walked hand-in-hand, looking past the end, reaching around it for another rose?
What if that glinting little end floated along nearby, but never came between us?

Is there such thing as a "dealbreaker"?
Does it HAVE to be?

What is greater, what has more power over me? My desires, or my other desires?

If he's not right, does that very certainly make him wrong?

How inconvenient is awareness, and how very fleeting is bliss.

I wish I could turn a blind eye, but now I've thought about it too much.

It's so foolish to ignore a deadline, to procrastinate on heartbreak, but I so wish the Monday Morning of reality weren't so near.

the
rain
of pain

fell down
again

i feel the same
out in the lane

sent from a place safe
to a place


unknown





unknown i am
to myself
who am i
where am i

i feel unknown and all alone


the raindrops have their friends,
not alone in their despair


i am but a lonely rainbow.
alone
but
glorious

Her eyes were like fire.
They weren't red or anything.
Not particularly warm, either.
They didn't glow or "appear to glow,"
whatever that means.

But they had that same strange blend of
familiar and miraculous---
and they were always nice to look at
after a long day of doing things.

How, may I ask, did you get so you,
you beautiful true-to-you doer?
I've met many today but I can honestly say
that I've never met anyone you-er.