and i think
i'm just so tired
of being sad
but it's something
there's no sense in
hurrying

the process of
yearning, of unlearning

there is so much
emotional labor
that goes into
forgetting

all of the good
the bright, the beautiful
before the terrible
the painful, the ugly

the feeling
you used to get
when you looked
into their eyes

and it hasn't been there
in months, maybe years

but you're chasing the high
because you're afraid
the memory
is all you have left of it

remembering
what it felt like
when you weren't
pretending
everything was
alright

it takes a tiny moment
an ephemeral blink
for such a bizarre comet
change time with novel ink.

it takes a sparkling feeling
a minor flash of chance
for such a little healing
turn life into a dance.

Feelings,
Shown—

Feelings,
Grown.

I can’t help but to
                                fall in awe
                                                   with her
                                                             ­      idyllic astonishment;

like how the moonbeam shines its ray
to lit up the darkened night sky
amongst all the unrest souls in their
                                                           ­     (not so)
                                                             ­                  blissful slumber.

I beg your pardon, m'lady—
for I have mistaken your
                                              b e a u t y
                                                               ­    for
                                                             ­      Misconstrued Paraselene.

My gut is in knots;
I feel agitated.
From space jumps? It’s not.
It’s more complicated...

Aboard our starship,
glances we’re stealing.
More than a friendship –
this simple feeling.

A feeling so pure
A feeling so amazing
This is a feeling we all crave
To have it, is to be unimaginably lucky.

The feeling that we all call love
The one worthy of going to the depths of hell for
For it is the light at the end.

To feel cherished
To be loved unconditionally without faulter
To know you have the one you seek. No matter what.

i went back to the healing place

drove through town just before
5 o’clock, traffic slowed, i sped

i went back to the healing place

the one i felt i hadn’t needed when
for once i had trust, i rushed
to take seat, said hello to my friends
the varied thrush, the winter wren

i said
i went back to the healing place

just in time to see the sun laid rest
beneath barren branches scratching
cracks across a sky caressing dusk

with it i lay back myself and look up
at those familiar hawthorn branches
i must’ve traced a thousand times before

i went back to the healing place
and the healing place was there for me
once more

"love is about commitment"
'then why did you leave?'

love is about commitment
but like other things, love
changes, in an instant
one moment love is blooming
one moment love is dying

and a dying love cannot commit
and a dying love cannot promise
and a dying love cannot stay