going home isn’t always
returning to a place.
sometimes
it is returning to yourself.

I'm trying to find a girl. She hides behind tears that no one sees her cry. I think she's trapped under a mountain of insecurities and lies people have told her. If you find her, can you tell her she's loved. Wanted. Can you help her understand she's not a burden if she wants to talk to someone?

I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.

I sit on the veranda and look out over the fields. Across the land scape of the vineyards that have been cared for with my own hands. As the sun sets I raise a glass of my own making, a fermented bouquet of wine in celebration of of life at sunset.

I could do it.

I have no concern for myself anymore
The only thing that keeps my heart beating
Is knowing that if it stopped
It would break yours

Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,

poetry comes easy
when i'm at my most queasy
when my heart is still trying to heal

emotions are not friends
they'll turn on you in the end
overwhelm you until you don't know what to feel

Eternally waiting
      For that day of coming
Where she’ll say, “I missed you”
                 And melt in my arms