there's nothing to say
except that it's just sad
when love turns into
brittle resentment

no one grows up
thinking they would
experience the worst
and then they do

sometimes she wondered if her insatiability would ever relent, if it would ever unburden itself from her mind. she thought about how she worked so hard to simplify her life, just to crave the missing complexities during soft lulls. if not careful, she would find herself running straight into a storm with no reasoning except to feel both fear and fearlessness.

sound asleep in the night, your breathing has become my lullaby. the gravel timbre of an old guitar, the crinkle of a turned page in a well-worn book. you are the sound of an endless field of lavender, the very cusp of a summer equinox. softly, softly, softly, I can close my eyes and drift into you.

it creeps up on you
like a vine, resolute
and winding through
crevices and vulnerabilities

you've taken
the bloom between us
and ripped off its petals
one by one

you sit there
looking down at it
wondering why what's left
is so naked, lonely
and uncared for

it's you
it's all because
of you

"everything that I have has come
from everything that I've lost"

this rumination has stuck with me
for days now since I first heard it

it reminds me of love

the kind of happiness that can only
be built on the knowledge of sorrow

a metronome for pain then healing




I wonder if we all had a choice
would we still choose the same?





I wonder if the price of perspective
comes in the form of contrast

a snow-capped Massachusetts morning,
the morning you awakened and turned over
from your side of the bed to hold me,
to tell me you had a dream,
your voice part gravel, part wonder,
a dream about our daughter—
the one we haven’t had—
how she was half me, half you,
how you saw her and it felt like
the proudest moment of your life

I hope she reads this one day
and feels the awestruck feeling
of love between us, for her—
our past, our present, our future
unfolding tenderly, slowly on
a snow-capped Massachusetts morning

when you’re the one
that has done the hurting
it takes time to heal too

it takes time to accept your faults
the pain you contributed to
the ending of it all

even if they hurt you too
even if they forgive you
the guilt inside you lives on

you might spend your life
hoping your sorrow
can be felt by them