no revenge
only a copy of the poems i wrote of my side of our story
and a bag of the food i’d bought for you
and my perfume on your hoodie, that i was wearing when you ended it
and a sense of loss that lingers

A man is that hard rock,
Born with stiffness and no shivers,
Until it's pressed at the soft point
Between the right fingers.

He starts to feel safe inside your fist,
Listens, nods, and stays right where you are,
Making believe that sunlight is not for him,
Longs for the darkness over your palm.

A sudden thought, on some evening—
His touch gave you *****, ugly hands.
You let him fall from the space in between,
The one who became yours in a single press.

Then he is vulnerable, unseen, and unvalued below those shoes.
People might've noticed, might pick up, but he yearns for you.

A random day, in the park, you see a man—
Alone, squeezed his body at the very right of the bench,
Longing for somebody to stop by, to listen and not mend.
For once, not feeling sorry for him but
His words left your body feeling alone at the very left end.

What his eyes had witnessed, the broken trust he felt—
Hadn't the crushing below those shoes—
What she had.
I'm unrelated, and hesitant—I might say something wrong,
So I sit quiet, making him feel heard,
Hoping it wouldn't get passed on.

today was like most days,
we lay together in my bed.

skin to skin.
heart to heart.

your head resting on my chest,
our breaths syncing onto one rhythm.

you held me so tight,
with such love and care.

the only difference today,
from all the days before,

was that today,
you wiped my tears as they fell.

and today,
i wasn't your girlfriend.

yet you still looked at me
with the same love in your eyes.

maybe even more.

You said
"It's not you,
It's me"
Maybe it was true-
I haven't had a clue
That it was for the better,
Even though it felt like a fetter.

You lifted me up,
Called me pretty-
Was it just your pity?
Then you got bored;
I've felt so ignored.

I know I've always been pretty,
Sometimes I've been too gritty,
To the little old me,
Now I know there's no price on me,
No measure of my worth-
I deserve to walk on this Earth.

although it's against his book to interlock hands, i see our favorite colors embrace in the evening sky.
his is yellow now. i didn't find that out until recently.
after meeting him again, i have basked in my growth. i am not the same. he is not the same either.
but difference is good. he always said yellow reminded him of my energy.
you can hate a situation so so much, yet deep down know it's right with the circumstances. this is exactly how i felt when we parted.
i pray the circumstances are in our favor the second time around.

I can’t write about it.
I can barely think
about that day on the bridge.

But thank you—
for letting me hug your dog.

You didn’t owe me kindness,
but you were still kind.

Leave when the sky is loud but the sidewalk is quiet.
When the door clicks shut like it’s keeping a secret,
don’t flinch.
Let your hands hang heavy,
the silence has its own grip.

Take only what fits in your chest,
you’ll be shocked what doesn’t.
Use only what won’t puncture your lungs.
(Even breath can betray you.)

Don’t check the mirror.
It lies loudest when you’re quiet.

If you must cry, do it in motion.
Stillness makes grief cocky,
then it hands you a mirror labeled “proof”
and waits.

Let the memory bruise.
Don’t label it.
Names are spells.

Closure’s a mirage
that waves from the distance
and never once turns around.

When the day feels unbearable,
bear it.
Not because you’re strong—
because you’re stubborn
and still here.

By month three,
his name will taste like static.
By month six,
you’ll forget the exact color of his laugh.
And by month twelve—
you’ll mistake the whole thing for a metaphor.

You’ll almost be right.
But even metaphors
break skin.
Memory crusts,
but it never closes.

I’m visiting places you’ve never been— Still I find you there.
It is beautifully sad to see you in everything. I want
Tears of joy, not regret, when I see orchids on my wedding day

who hurt you
so much now?

get back up
off the ground.

they may have
let you down,

but that doesn't mean
you're down
for the count.

just wait.

give it
a little time—

things happen
for a reason,

and your heart
is aching
for something more.

i know
you’ve been through
a lot.

you’ve tried so hard,
fought to stay afloat—
still breathing
through the weight.

just wait.

lovers come
for a reason,
a season,
or a lifetime.

but seeking
your worth
in someone
who won’t see it

will only leave you
in shambles.

just wait.

the right one
will appear

when you
least expect it.

don’t give up.
you are more
than enough.

just wait.

the right one
will appear—
and they’ll love you
for real.