My dear, I wish I could speak my mind.
I would write in an eloquent letter and end the words with hearts
Saying that the distance between us will not tear us apart
But how do I tell you that and make those promises?
When I'm suffocating with such deep misunderstanding..

I pick up the letter and smudge the ink
Tear apart the sentences and cross out the hearts
I love you, I love you, but I'm sure you love me not at all.
How do I feel, what do I do? I'm tired when I endlessly think of you.
And the paper cuts mock me.
I give up before it drives me to insanity.
And I will sleep, perhaps for all of eternity.

God,
Help me believe You're using this brokenness in me for a reason.
Help me see Your good ways and plans for my life.
Father,
You see my pain, it feels too much to bear many days.
It feels like an endless cycle, fighting it feels so hard.
Help me have hope in You.
Help me see myself more the way You see me, Lord.
Creator,
I know You created me with amazing creativity and with good gifts.
Help me to honor that and see that more than the way I currently am seeing myself.

Icy & Cloudy
A surface of snow on my glasses
Would it be a memory that obsesses
Me with a song?
You with a letter?
Hearing the rhythm of passion
In between a coffee cup
& Some kind sound of slow street
& A heart race at speed!

My Dearest Molly Anne,
I hope you are now satisfied
With the sinking bags under my eyes and
The empty gap between my thighs, I hope
You know I can no longer sleep
Without you to rock me through the slow-rolling lake,
And sing your song of a thousand sheep.
You've started throwing
Thick red waves into my sink and
Messed with my ability to think and
Darling, you pull me
Under miles and miles of freezing sea
And you take and you take,
Never satisfied.

Dear Me
         you are loved
                 you are smart
                        you are beautiful
Dear Me
        he didn't deserve you
             a real man will never raise a hand
                sometimes happily ever after takes awhile
Dear Me
         it's okay to cry
               it's okay to hurt
                     put the knife down
Dear Me
         I wish someone saw
            I wish I could help you
               I wish I could hug you and tell you it'll be okay
       But Dear Me your time has past,
let me move on
                      let me put you to rest
                                         go to sleep life is hard
                                                            ­but now it's my turn

I was writing you words of love, thinking it would be sweet and beautiful
Because that's what love is, isnt it
Took my pen and papers and started inking the pages

But my words were not as kind as I expected
Instead I wrote about
Fearing I would never be enough for you, because when you shine so bright
Surely I can't be anything but dull.

I thanked you for
bearing with me, because I was hard to know
and I thanked you for your patience
in front of my self loathing
and for your will to stay
when clearly I was too much or not enough
both at once.

So I tore down the letter.
Why were these words the only ones that came to me, why does love hide so many
ugly truths
I don't want them to be the only traces left of us

So, someday, I will tell you instead,
and my letter will only be the candid,
the beauty.
And the raw, devastating parts of
loving someone so much it hurts,
I'll hold on to them a little bit longer.

Because I'll grow out of hating myself,
But I wont grow out of loving you.

Dear Venus of my Heart,

The Solstice of blue, once flourishing with fiery flowers red, the petals of our garden froze. The chimney of our cabin of dreams, ambitious as Alexander's attainments, pops with the fog of the remnants of heat. We used to defy the now frozen roaring raging river of time and drink from the abstract notion of forever. For me, it felt like years embracing the elation of our entangled hearts, despite the days that went by. But reality is a grey mirror, and, in a hoard of wretched ways, I wronged you. Our Ecstasy, even extremely enlivening, was fleeting in behalf of my secret despair.

Imagine I a long-lasting love, a motto that guards me of any break. An unpierceable vowel, a couple for life, to live like lions loyal, bold and courageous yet entwined. So, to pour my emotions akin to the biblical flood and undergo an Ophelia, or even a Mimì, to subversion it distresses me. The motivations of mine may map me as an adamant, but I am a romantic, a believer of one true love. I just worry my machine shall yield to the snap of the edge and the ever yearly youthful yearning of restless consummation repels me. While passion is the feeling of the flesh, love is the feeling of the soul; one mate shall be fate. And my soul longs for you in spite of the lonely length that loosens our bonds.

Thus, out of my outrageous offense, I repent. I lament my vanity, this vividly voracious scruple of kissing way before and tragically after the priest's last words without a care for the bride. I apologize for this erroneous early enamor and the ceaseless insistence to the raw departure, leaving echoes of you in pictures of us. But now alas is time for my final parting, to let go because move on I shall. Heart breaks for heart's sake.

Forever and always,
H

PS: The fog shrouded our cabin of dreams. I feared going back to our place. But doubt no longer clouds my view, so I cleared the mist. Still, the chimney's black stains cannot be cleaned. Hope for this house rests on its grave. However, a new home is just around the corner. It is up to you to build it with me. I will be waiting.