Late at night when everything is quiet I think of you
The loneliness is a familiar feeling because I felt it while being next to you
I always wanted a love that made me feel loved but instead just turmoil
Water and oil mixture
My soul cries out and the bugs get louder
Is there something wrong with me?
I miss your body next to mine, without it
I’m yearning, searching..
it’s 2 AM and I miss you
The body heat most importantly
I wish you would’ve thought of me the way I thought of you so it wouldn’t leave me stuck
At 2 AM…
Missing
Reminiscing
you.

I find myself awake at night.
Unable to sleep.
Lost in my thoughts.
Talking to myself.
Or my best friend - my notebook.

I've known it since I could talk: freedom will never be mine.
It was never my mother's.
It was never my grandmother's.
It was never my great grandmother's.

When you are raised like I am, you are taught from the moment you can walk
that you will need to be someone's wife.
You know that some day, someone, somewhere will come looking for you.

Sounds sweet, doesn't it?
It is.
Sickening and unsettlingly so.

If you are raised the way I am, love exists.
Just not for you.
It's not something you will get willingly in the end.

Yes, you may find it when you're young.
But in the end
the inevitable is that you will need to force yourself to love him.

And he has to be "him"
Rich, smart.
Who gives a **** about if he's a good person?
Who gives a **** about whether or not he cares?
the whole point is to multiply.

So, slowly,
I've come to acknowledge
that this isn't a Disney movie
No one will come looking, no one will accept
Nor will I be able to look for them
the broken and insane mess that is me.

it’s midnight in laredo
and my shoes slap the sidewalk
like a dying heartbeat.

people pass by like ghosts
faces painted on smoke,
and i pause —
am i the only real one?

then loneliness crawls my back
like a wet coat i can’t shake off
and i keep walking.

Every soul
I swore an oath not to lose
became the ghosts
I learned to carry
in silence.

I sobbed a moment,

then controlled myself again --


I can do that too.

Between my birches I do roam,
Across green plains and forests,
Between my little, secret spaces
That I call home.

I wish my tribe were here,
But it is scattered,
Around the globe,
And nowhere near.

The longing will not cease -
So this is for my tribe,
A bird's song of my home
Where my soul finds peace.

The snow crunched
Underneath my sandals
As I walked along the seashore.
It was there a grove of birch trees stood
Ever since childhood, I often swore
Yet I saw them stand tall no more
White as ever
And as banded as any snake
Yet their branches had broken and withered
In the time I had gone.
Ice had split the trunks in half and no matter how I tried to glue them back together
It was far too splintered and cracked
Winter had taken it's toll
On this Birchwood heart of mine.

I closed my eyes to the ocean of your eyes,
only to open them
to the drought of your absence.

Rainy days make me contemplate
What if I took her warm embrace
What if we shared our dreams and fears;
It is the cold that whispers,
Lonely tunes of an old radio,
Waking up emotions of faded hue;
The thought of you and me
How lovely would it be
If I could lean on your shoulder
As the weather turns colder.