Indescribable
is the woe I felt
at witnessing the
cruel aftermath
of heartbreak,
and struggling
to mend it.

People seemingly vanish all the time
But where are they if you're in the same place?
And here I sit still writing within mine
Amidst the candles glow I see your face

There is no curse that cannot be broken
Your aftermath leaves etchings on my heart
That equates to what our love has spoken
The emptiness that feels tears me apart

But here I remain, still, right where I sit
Along on my hands I count the great stars
As the path I must now take back is lit
Back, once more, I go to where this all starts

What has been sleeps peacefully in the past
Tenderly taken by a love at last

We all need acknowledgement
Consideration
We need air and food and sleep and
a sign that we are on someone's mind

You must fake care
We all must
Because a functioning relationship and a
a very low ******* tolerance cannot
Coexist

I have the neediest of needs
Unfulfilled
But your head could not be farther
up your own ******* and you can't see
I'd like them met by you
Oops

You trust so easily, Fragile Heart
When you know it's when you let them in
That they break you, and tear you apart.

You believe everything you want to hear
Fill yourself up with empty hope
That's recycled out as salty tears.

You tie yourself to the ground with scars
Like a balloon secured on a windy day
So they remind you of who you are.

"I'm not going to be staying here."
You wanted so bad to fly away
But Love, just know, you're not going anywhere.

It is 1826, and last time I heard from him was 7 years ago.
“I will be back, mother” he promised in his military attire.
The worst part about a broken promise is voiding a word of its meaning.
The rifle that killed my son murdered the word ‘back’;
I do not trust the milkman when he says he will be back with my change.
I do not trust the government when it says it has a back-up plan.
I do not trust my husband when he says he has my back.
It is 1826, and last time I felt good looking in the mirror was 25 years ago.
“You look beautiful”, my husband said but he wasn’t looking at me.
I saw his eyes escaping mine and drifting to the unknown lands of easy days .
a walk back home with shoes that fit,
a dinner table with bread that isn’t stale,
a bed with soft sheepskin that doesn’t scratch the wounds opened from the death of a loved one.