i don’t want to sit around all day
impatiently waiting for him to call
and when i finally hear his voice
i don’t want to feel like he’s
the air in my lungs i need to breathe
and when it’s time to say goodbye
i don’t want to fight over
who should hang up first

i’m not looking for someone
to make me feel whole,
because i already am
i’m not looking for someone
to save me because
i’ve already been saved

i don’t want to be holding
hands at the wrist so if (when)
he lets go, i’m still holding on

i don’t want in-between
fake promises from prince charming

i want diner breakfasts
at 3 in the morning and
long car rides with broken radios
and handwritten letters with
nothing scribbled out because
he doesn’t care about perfection,
he cares about being real

when it’s time,
i want to be in love
not in love
with feeling loved

I used to pray that I’d never be loved by
anyone I couldn’t love back,
but then I remembered how many mountains
I grew strong enough to climb when
you didn’t love me back
and I realized that
there’s no use in praying for
the absence of pain
because it will always find you
whether it be through sunburn or aching silence
and broken bones grow back stronger
so I won’t pray you’ll never get hurt
I’ll pray you clean out the cuts on your
elbows and learn to not pick at
the scabs on your knees
and that you’ll stand up more times
than the wind knocks you down
And that you’ll find ways to appreciate
the circles beneath your eyes, but
still hold onto the hope that one day
you will count your scars and smile because
you are proud of how far you’ve come
and how much you’ve grown, and
you’re not just surviving, you are alive.

it’s difficult
to romanticize the past
or even
remember it as
genuine
when i keep discovering
more and more each day
that everything
you said,
and everything you
promised,
and everything
i thought was true,
was not.

i found you
but you’ve found
someone else
so i will not let you know

i’m choking on
questions like
was i foolish for
thinking your heart
could still beat for me?
and
am i selfish for
wishing it did?

i found you
but i know
you are better off
with me hiding
in the trees

i will not let you know.

~

My pen pleads

Lonely nights offer moments of silence
and one dish suppers where candlelight seems a waste
Seated with pen in hand, I smooth the ruffles beneath
as if that will help the words flow

Upon closer inspection I find
heart shaped patterns on the dining room tablecloth
mimic the movements of my hand,
layered one atop another, calling on each to oblige

Crossing lines, intersecting at pre-destined points,
repeating in harmony with one another
as my thoughts gather in the tiny squares
of this colored graph paper staring at me, waiting

Moving in sync with butterfly curves on the corners
and scribbled etchings along borders,
fantasies of a mind in a dream state
swirl, touching each box of this formatted design

Folds neatly collect the shapes of spilled ink
seeping slowly through the cloth
like raindrops on a leaf following the veins
in an abstract yet confined flow

To the blurred eye sits nonsense,
a collection of nothing on a vast white sheet
dancing like uneven feet on a rounded floor
of no particular meaning or feature

Yet to me, my penned doodling calls loudly,
even in the darkness of lost words, these patterns,
as is everything found filling me is you…
and my pen pleads in heart shaped longings