He told me he was damaged.
I was too,
So I tried to fix him.
If I could save him, I could save myself,
Or maybe he would save me.
But instead,
He broke me further
Instead of mending the rips in my soul,
He tore it to shreds,
And left his marks on my skin.

At the center
of everything
there is a beat-
of a heart
of a drum
that carries all life.

It all moves,
fluxes, and flows.
a waltz, then a foxtrot.
It doesn't matter,
it's all the same-
                            same life force, same song.

I, too, hear that music,
and so I dance.

I'm searching every single place
turn every corner and hope to see your face
been trying to find you, but I just don't know
so where do the broken hearts go
they say they know how I feel
and somehow its my fault that it was my heart you chose to steal
you tore me apart but I kept my mouth shut
my only weakness is that I care too much
it hurts to see you smile when I'm in pain
but everyone else just thinks I'm insane
when you ask I'll always say I'm fine
yet secretly I wish you were still mine
I'm forced to see you almost everyday
I watch you as you walk away
I wish you would hold me like you used to
I wish you cared as much as I do
finally came out of my shell
now the price I pay is pure hell
so now my heart is finally dead
all because you got into my head
and though I don't let it show
I'm dying really slow
you stole my heart
then you ripped it apart
I look down and watch the blood flow
I finally know where the broken hearts go

this is not a poem. it's more of an anthem, to honour all the nights i set my hair on fire with the wind & to raise a glass to all my glasses of wine brought on by poems written under candlelight. i'm not a writer, i'm just a woman paying tribute to you & all the ways you made my chest ache with infatuation & my finger tips tingle with skin-on-skin interaction. this is not a poem, i am not an artist. i am merely recollecting, reminiscing all the nights my skin was wild with alcohol & my breath was breathing out endless love letters & my guitar was singing out holy hymns. i was praising something. i was praising my body & the way my arms always unfolded for you & the way we always seemed to fit together. even when we didn't. but no, this is not a poem. i am not romantic but i was madly, romantically in love with you.