By candlelight, I write to you
my Dearest
pens the hands of so many
ancient, yet still living, loves
from times
now only of memory.

Wives, and husbands
and lovers, to daughters
to friends
turned heartbreakers
how such drama unraveled over months
of ship travels!

What a slow, painful
falling apart, or coming to life:
oh, what could have grown from such
a meaningful spark

started by one letter.
A mere penstroke
sent with love,
on faithful winds.

Weighing the scales of
time and regret:
it wouldn’t be balanced if we had
one without the other,
now would it?

You cannot escape regret
trying to flee has steep costs;
you will drown in the time you’ve lost-
but
keeping the balance
between your hopes and your loss,
once the scale rusts
you may find yourself pleased, after all.

I remember waking up on Saturday mornings
to watch the reruns
of my favorite tv shows,
or staying up late at night
so I didn’t have to record
the finale I was waiting on,
for what felt like
years.

It’s the same feeling I get now
putting my makeup on
picking what colors to wear,
checking the weather
when I reread our texts, thinking ahead
hoping against hope
this one will go better.

Every date is a rerun
a replay, the same night
by a different name
and the heartbreak feels
the same
as my stomach twists and I realize
you, again, saw this
as just a game.

Every chance
I let hope fly
like an arrow loosed from a quiver
I’ve always had an itchy trigger finger
aiming for love,
though I miss every time.

And though it hurts,
and I’m bandaged and bruised
from weeks and years
of valentine’s blues
I dust it off and try again;
one of these days,
my original will air.

“You can only fracture something
so many times
before you realize it can’t
be put back together.”

And I had my hands full of glass
before I saw
all the blood. It took too long
for me to see
what it all had become.

Solivagant,
a lonely
vapor
a single molecule of water
rising up into the sky

It wanders, to-and-fro
pushed around by
winds and whims and woes, and
prays to find another soul
and yet it continues rising.

Hopeless, the movement
repetitive, the verses
just remnants, pieces
of thoughts that are
broken and
fractured
they can't be seen by fuller eyes.

It shouts into the void
no lips, no tongue, no teeth with which
to make a sound, it
reaches out and
has no hands with which
to grasp.

And yet, still it rises
and time and time again
it comes to find
its purpose is revealed in
the end.

Remembering
you have a home, when you truly feel
you're all alone, is the hardest one to keep -
it slips away
like a father's voice, a mother's face,
a train ticket blowing away
you chase with haste.

Have trust, have faith, they all say,
those who have never had to keep pace
with the malicious apathetic whims of the wind,
as it sweeps away every dream within -

Alone, you run, missing every turn
the gps has gone out and the maps have been burned
all alone, you seem to be, rushing past deserts, empty of trees
and somehow every step you take
leads you along the path He made.

Jealousy is
a sneaky beast

With her crescent claws
and dripping fangs

She climbs her way inside your veins
a hidden threat

She sneaks inside
she nests in pain

Pretends to hide
in angry veins

Blood pumping, it's copper-tasting
lying awake

Sleepless nights of
convincing frights

Assigning fault
high as a kite

Her venom is swift, when she bites -
who tries to fight?

How could you, when it feels like she's
protecting you?