The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

There's a screen door
That slams if you let it shut by itself.
The woven metal rattles distinctly.
It wakes my parents up,
Causes my dog to leap from her perch on the couch.

There are floorboards
That groan with each step.
The sanded surface is smooth.
It has this smell that fills the room,
It's old, but it's pleasant, and I liked to breathe it deeply.

There are windows
That fill the walls.
They let all the natural light in.
They're a great alternative
To the screen door when I'm locked out.

There's a doorframe
That sits at the top of the stairs.
It leads to parent's bedroom
We've marked all of our heights on it,
With different colored pencils.
That's my favorite part.

I wanted
someone
that wouldn't
be afraid

of me.

I spent
twenty-one
years
doubting
that person
could ever
exist.

For humans
are far too shallow
and our
complications
are

way too deep

but I honestly believe
we should not have to
be alone.

I believe in independence.
I believe in self-reliance
and I believe in self-respect.

But I also believe that
humans can connect
on a far deeper level
than just what we see.

I believe there is a time
and place
for everything
and that includes
the moments

we fall in love.

You see,
there will be days
that you fill
empty
and lonely
but you have
to be there for yourself.

No one is going to give you
a handout
unless you show them
you are going to
make it count.

No one is going to
rely on someone
that cannot
rely on them self.

Co dependence can be
beautiful
but nevertheless-
it is filled with
even more grief.

You cannot fix somebody else
when you are still
practicing
the craft
of self-love.

Allow your lows
to be reminders
that you
can lose
and smile
knowing
that you can
bounce back,
too.

There is nothing
graceful
in struggling
but there is
something
glorious
in the

overcoming

and believe me-
you will find a way
to live through it all.

And then
some day
somebody,
somewhere
is going to
admire
the way
you refuse
to fall.

And you will wonder
how you ever
let the world
make you feel

so small.

-Andrew Durst.

I've started hating all
of the music that
I love
and maybe it’s because
I hear you in every
song

You are my favorite passenger
my driver through tired eyes

You are my Nebraska rest stop lover
and the morning kiss in the tent.

You make my lips curl to a smile
and dance along your face.

You are the lime in my corona
and the clank to my bottle.

You are not my smores poptart
more like my layered dip

You're my backseat snoozer
and my cutest cuddle duddle

My late night fisherman
and my serving counterpart

You're my badlands baby cakes

You fill up my heart

You fill up my heart

You fall out of love like a habit.
Nobody told you that even when they say
'there are no wrong answers',
there's always one that rings all the wrong bells.
You say, 'Maybe strawberry ice cream is my favourite',
and suddenly alarms go off in his head
'How? What? Nobody likes strawberry icecream!
This one is defective! Return to Sender!'

This one is defective.
You were mass produced
on a supply line for antsy, lonely nineteen-year olds.
This was their best year yet; the whole world is aching
but we're sorry to inform you but
Models made after 1995 are no longer supported.

To the scrapyard, then.
You fall and tumble and crawl out of love
like it's out to get you.
Like it's got its teeth in you,
nails tearing into flesh,
holding your ankles and begging you
to stay.

i need to drive away
i need to get out
i need to explore
i need to experience
i need to scratch a never-ending itch
i need to pop the bubble
i need to be free

but i can’t

i have been tossed into a sea of the thickest honey
i have been stitched into the fabric itself
i have been locked in a cold metal box
i have been thrown into the ocean with a weight
i have been stabbed and cut into pieces
i have been drowning for years
i have been strangled every second of every day

i am suffocating