This is the price I have to pay,
That's why some say 'loving hard' is a curse.

As much as I love wholeheartedly,
cutting into my chest and opening up my heart…
I am but only a tiny flame flickering in the midst of the fire.

I can give everything, but she will always have other people to love…
to cherish,
to be vulnerable with,
to trust,
to build recurring relationships,

And I will just be another choice, a record on the dusty turntable lusting for your hands to set me into motion once again.

But... nobody said love was easy.


Nobody speaks of the jealousy,
the envy,
the selfishness,
the yearning to need someone so deeply or to be needed with as much intensity.

My perspective of love, is that it can be selfish … demanding … obligatory;
full of needs and wants.


But its beauty lies in everything it is made up of;
including the selfishness to hide a person away for your own benefit.

The demanding feelings to give someone your best,
Even when you are at your worst.

In the obligation to care and be empathetic, highlighting your best attributes.


Love is always going to be everything it is,
And everything it is not.
However difficult 'loving hard' may be,
I would not choose to love any other way.

You left without a word,
Threw me away like a used tissue,
Your own child, your blood,
I still hope you feel pained,
As my absence remains.
May your nights be diffused with sorrow,
As you toss and turn,
As your mind makes a river,
Filled with my own tears,
Flowing through your mind day by day,
I hope my absence makes you ponder,
Weighing down on you each day,
A constant reminder,
Of what you lost when you walked away.
Inhale the bitter cigarette, let it burn your core,
May each breath bring the torment you made me implore.
Now you lie in the grave, and the silence is my wound,
The pain cuts deeper knowing we never met,
After you left.
Never bound.

To drown in your sirenic gaze
is what I yearn for the most,
even if it leads to my
inevitable undoing.

How I yearn for thee
Your smile my reprieve

Yet you lack the same gaze
I feel short in your praise

For I am in love with your esthetics
Simply blind by your aesthetics

But, I feel you find me not comparable
It simply feels that you fine me tolerable

How I yearn for thee
Alas I feel no reprieve

Reminiscing old, long-lost memories
that we once lived for,
is like pressing on bruises
that are not yet healed.

The bittersweet pain of our reverie,
seeks to mingle
with the weary, blurred lines
of the so-called 'peace'
we've come to accept.

Maybe it’s not the silence
or the yearning for what's long gone,
but the desire to at least,
for once, feel something
in this slow-burning,
hope-filled fever dream.

Would it be wrong
to attempt painting the blank canvas
that's been sitting in my attic
for longer than I've had it?

To witness the sky paint itself
shades you've never seen;
blooming with thorns of yearning
as your gaze turns away?

Or to be drowned
by the soft reflection
of worldly glee,
as the moon begins to fall?

Oh, tell me --

Is it really wrong
to pour your heart out,
when you've never had anything
to pour at all?

Time aways I remember you tangled in the crook of my neck
Your half lidded eyes
such a gentle boy
Accursed it may seem
Agonized inside these walls
You were desperate for my touch
as I am for yours now

Cruelty bespeaks me
how many dead lay in your path
how many lay in mine
Exhausted I would feel
Your hand lazily cupped over my breast
Squeezed and pumped through

Even now my skin burns
this lust only awakes for you
How pathetic that must be
Wanting so desperately
I would tear my teeth out just for another taste

Instead I lay numb in my bed
Trying hard to forget
Trying hard not to care
Trying hard not to want
Failure creeps in on me
You pound through my head
In the most unexpected places I catch your glimpse
I wonder if I could turn back time
My salty tears dripping on your chest
Your arms reluctantly holding me
How could I forget?

I tainted what good came my way
Come to me again
Forgive me
I begged for you not to let me go
I turn to ash and crumble
My skin has already been picked at
I forgot how to breathe

The overwhelm has beaten me to a pulp
Do I breathe heavy
my limbs feel limp against my sides
Wave crash over my chest
My words fail me

How I wish to be born as one of his tears—
So I could travel down his cheek,
And die on his lips.

Get my boat so I may go to the mountain top,
To thy enemies Infront of thee flee,
On their carpets they go away from their home,
From all they have ever known,
Wayward unto the sea, down many leagues they flee,
Away from the wrath of ye and me,
To the Mariana trench we cannot see,
Is the destination to their journey,
Upon which we will sojourn,
And deeply yearn,
All there is to learn.