my life has started whirling
down a sink of self doubt
I question everything I love
because my perfect life
has started to crack
revealing all the aches
I had tried to cover

you know what *****?
waking up all alone in the morning, without him next to you.
you know what *****?
that all of his clothes you have doesn't smell like him anymore.
you know what *****?
no longer receiving forehead kisses and unexpected hugs.

it just ***** that you could spend all this time with someone you thought you'd marry, just to find out 5 years later that it wasn't going to work out.

if only, there was time.
if only, someone showed us a sign.
if only, we could have turned back time.

that's a lot of what-ifs to ponder, but I suppose it is what it is.

a love that was snatched from you in the blink of an eye even after the grieving phase is over, with explanations that you will never accept.

a love that was undeniably strong especially when you thought the two of you would be forever.

There is a world laying outside a window and looking out is a woman. She stares, unknowingly, out towards what could be the vastness of the year or the quickness in a day, an hour, the second it takes to inhale and exhale the sigh that leaves her lips that warmed her mouth that expanded her lungs causing the diaphragm to visibly widen and then recede again.

It may be unknown but it is all too familiar - the feeling of looking out of a window, inhaling and exhaling, feeling and watching the breast rise and fall, the repetition of it all THAT is all too familiar. Then it settles in. The resignation that this might be an always unknown sight with an always too familiar feeling, action, inhale, exhale, inhaLE, exhALE, inHALE, eXHALE, INHALE ....

Don't forget to eeeeeexhaaaaaaaaaale ... blow. It's close iiiiiiiiiiiiiiinhaaaaaaaaaaale ... it's autumn again ... eeeeeeeeeeexhaaaaaaale. Wonderful. Excellent. Marvelous! Steady now - it's not unknown but a curiosity. And so begins the cycle of my anxiety.

I feel like my thoughts
are pouring out my ears
everyone can hear things
that i don't want them to hear
that's not a good thing
they'll make fun of me
if they hear my thoughts
they wouldn't leave me be
they'd all bully me
I'm being sincere
these types of thoughts
I want no one to hear

Knight of the night
Fearfully incising the hearts
Of those you pass
With pasts
Of unreliable mothers
Fathers
And caregivers

Knight of the night
I try to look
At your presence
As a gift
But in the midst
Of your silken touch
And unsuspecting kisses
Pressing heavier
You've made your impact

Knight of the night
I wonder of your return
Do you feel shame
In your silence
Of naming this sweetness
A forbidden fruit

It will not swallow you,
I promise
I will not let it
For if there is a day
You feel you cannot leave
I will lead you to the garden
And leave you there
So you can grow

Someday I will return
To enjoy the fruits
Of which we loved and labored
Abundant

These,
Gifts of two worlds
Please, realize
You need not be chained

Gifts
Of our worlds
Are to be celebrated
Unshackled
From self-imposed narratives
Free

I know it's been a long time coming.
But these days, it doesn't seem
like anyone's home emotionally.
Like we all took a midnight drive
to clear our head.
But by the time we were ready to come back, we got lost
because the street lights were dead.
This is a call to all our loved ones waiting anxiously by the door:
Turn the lights on.
We don't want to be alone anymore.

But in the meantime
we must be content,
I say, to be misunderstood for a while.
We are all very anxious to be understood,
and it is very hard not to be.
But there is one thing much more necessary;
to understand other people.