I hate the cracks in my ceiling.
I never thought twenty-two
would feel this empty.
if there was a way
I could stop time,
I would so you
could stay here with me.

sometimes I can't see
the love that surrounds me,
I didn't know love was
mine to keep.

at times I feel so sick.
wish I didn't feel it.
don't tell me you've
forgotten what it's like,
our love grew overnight.
I can always see the ache
in your eyes.

far away is such a
scary place to be.
the light fills all the empty
between you & me.

all I ask of you,
don't buy me flowers.
take me to a garden.
for I get sad when they die.
when they are ripped
from their roots
in the ground.
their time for
growing is up.
they can no longer
have conversations
with the sun
or the grass
or the rain
as it kisses them
so softly.

its a new year,
but I'm wearing
the same socks.
nothing is different.
my anxiety has me
trapped like a
bug trapped in amber.
kind of how you
have me trapped.
but unlike amber,
you have left open gaps.
gaps for escaping.
theres no way I'm caving.
when I'm with you,
there's no behaving.
my pieces don't fit
like they use to.
its been winter for a
while now.
my petals have fallen off.

Google maps took me the most backwards way home and I got lost.
I only got google maps because my boyfriend puts all of his trust into it, I thought maybe I should too.
But I will not use you again, google maps.

I’m thankful for the forgotten compact discs that have
been shoved into the glove compartment to listen to when the
rain static makes the Bluetooth lose its dignity.

Stuck bumper to bumper on the highway isn’t the worst thing in the world, although it seems that my lane is moving miles slower than the rest.
How beautiful brake lights look when they reflect off the freshly watered road.
I use this time to think about the day and how grateful I am to have a car to be stuck bumper to bumper on a highway.

There’s way too much pressure to trust the people driving in front of you but sometimes you have no choice when their brake lights
are the ones guiding you home.

The sun races me home as it rides the rain soaked pavement.

the mornings play a
hysterical game of
forgetting the night
and putting it back
together piece by piece,
thread after thread
so delicately by sundown.
the demons don't care
what the milkmen have to say.
they're so easily forgotten.
until they climb out of their
little houses.
they tug on the thread each visit,
unraveling.
they will swallow you whole.
the milkmen are waiting with the sun.
they great me with a smile and a sweet touch,
like sun rays on pale skin.
but the demons bring stars with them.
they grab my hand as cherry red drips
of my fingertips.

what once was yellow
has been covered grey.
pieces of their lives
turned into mosaics.
all you see is the golden
dreams turn into pillow seams.
every night you think.
drips of memories
seep through the concrete creases.

-about my old house, but also about me.

There’s something about the
Feeling you get when you wake up
In the morning and your eyes are
Still sealed shut with sand.
The first sip of coffee after a long
Night of dreaming.
Mornings are always gleaming.
Almost perfectly.
No mornings are the same
As the last.

My eyes are open but I’m still falling.
Your voice means something different
To me now.
I poured all of my light into you,
What do i have left?

some days i wish i were
a desert flower,
drenched in sunlight.

I sink into the mattress
more than I ever have
before on my own.
waves of blankets
cover me.
like the tide,
you pull me in
closer & closer
as each hour passes.
a cool breeze waltzes through
the half open window.
the sound of the distant midnight train
is all we hear.
I look into your sleepy ocean eyes
and I just lose myself.

the sunlight
dripped through
the window
like honey
melting into
a cup of tea.
I love it when
it greets me
but I don't mind
when its leaving.
in fact I might love it
even more.

some part of me
are still not okay.
some parts of me
feel like they need to
be filled with cement.
but you've filled them
with dirt and seeds.
now flowers have grown
from the empty parts of me
but you are not here.
I hope my flowers keep
growing even during winter.

I wonder how many
times we've looked at
the moon at the same time.
it knows how to follow us.

if only we had known
the amount of love
the moon still had
for us.

after all, she's the only
one that sees us
when we're alone.

our coffee stained mornings
filled up to the brim
with that dark, bitter taste.
traces of it were left on
your lips.

somehow our mornings
were darker than our nights.
we were surrounded by stars
during the night,
and there was nothing
bitter about it.

the voices in the winter air
keep me company.
they've traveled far
treading miles through
the deep snow & the
blizzard in my mind.
they should've shown
me the silky summer sun
when they had a chance.
I should've payed more
attention to the way
the sun shone on
your freckles.

when I get out of this
place it'll be better.
don't let yourself
come after me.
don't stop your breathing
I'll be here until morning.
but I'll be gone when you wake
so don't bother to wait.
I've had this dream
more times than
I can count on my
fingers and toes.

when you left, I kept parts of you with me.
I still have the leaves you picked
up off the ground at the beginning of fall
when the trees were changing colors.
I held onto the notes you wrote me,
simply telling me that I looked nice
and wishing me a good day.
I wonder if you sign your name the same way.
I have a photo of us that was taken at a wedding,
the photographer followed us around all night.
he probably thought we were in love.
I thought we were too.
you dug yourself so deep into me,
now there is just a huge gap.

- about someone I loved.

sometimes there is more
than static in my mind.
there is noise
and then silence.
but when you speak,
my whole world goes quiet.

a universe of words
pour into my mind
and out of your mouth.
technicolored patterns
fill my eyes.
you are a beaming light,
golden and blooming
as we jump into a
pool of stars.

the sun has always
just been the sun to me.
nothing more, nothing less.

but then I met you
and the sun was not
only what lights
the earth,
but it is a golden
blanket.

I feel the sun on my skin,
and you touch me,
and it feels the same.

don’t risk your
life smoking cigarettes
for the sake of conversation.
I say this as if I
wouldn’t give myself
lung cancer just so
I could talk to you.