What does love represent?
It represents kindness,
strength,
another perspective on life,
commitment,
greed,
playfulness,
securities,
joy,
and selfishness.
We cant live without any of these.
We cant live without love.

we entangle
the limbs
while we sleep
ruffling the sheets
pulling at the blanket
seperate pillows
and dreams
that i want
to share.

you took me by the hand,
you told me you loved me,
a toy castle appeared
out of nowhere,
you told me you
bought it for us to live in,
you pulled out a ring,
it was your grandmothers,
you asked me to marry you,
i said yes before you
could finish with
a question mark.
it was the best dream
i ever had.

Freud said it best
"time spent with cats
is never wasted"
there have never been
truer words.
you feel the love
that you deserve,
the passion of another
being needing you,
the conversations you
dont have to make,
the satisfaction when you
hear purring just from
your touch,
the content of just
being in the same room.
the only thing missing
is those feelings being
felt towards you.

human life is so weird,
you wake up to an empty bed,
you make a half *** of coffee
because there is no one there to share
it with you,
you stare out the window
and imagine all the couples
sharing the news paper and
a morning cigarette,
you shower,
you get dressed,
you go to a mundane job
that you wish wouldn't **** you,
you come home to a messy flat,
you take off your shoes,
you go to the bathroom mirror
and look at your city filled pores,
you eat dinner,
you go to an unmade bed
that has more pillows than you need
just so it seems like someone else is
sleeping beside you,
you read the book thats been
sitting on your bedside table for
3 months because you just stare
at the word filled pages,
and then, out of nowhere,
you're asleep, dreaming of a different life.

You rip my heart out if my chest
and then you place it on a table
there is a scalpel  in your hand;
gently, slow motion, dissecting,
you slice it right in half,
still beating....

the thread you used to sew me back together
doesnt match the veins.
you close my chest back up,
there will always be a scar.

it will hurt but it will heal
and then you'll just do it all over again.
you're a doctor with no intention
of healing the wounded.

you left your soul
for us to find
you left your footprints
for us to follow
you left your love
for us to feel
we will never be the same
without you.

i think of all the
conversations we could have.
all the conversation i want to have
but silence floods my insides.
i like not knowing.
i like making up stories
in my head.
you're more interesting that way.

My thoughts are endless
No sleep for the wicked, no
What is this *******?

Its been a while
Since the last day I saw you
Half smirk, tired eyes

we are in the purgatory
of being in love
and being nothing more
than mere friends.

purgatory is the same
as hell for me.  
but at least then, i'm somewhere.

have you ever wondered
what it's like to feel something?
something so real it hurts you
it hurts you in ways
that force you to stay awake
all night, tossing and turning,
crying, sighing, and shivering.

it's the feeling of being in love.
it's the feeling of losing someone.
it's the feeling of loneliness.
it's the feeling of self loathing.
it's the feeling of depression.
it's the feeling of happiness.
it's the feeling of emptiness.

i always have dreams
of losing my father.
i feel the most sympathy
when people lose their
dads in a movie.
not dogs or mothers or siblings.
fathers.
I am my daddy's girl.
he is everything i hope to
be one day.
he is everything i hope to
not be, either.
a girl cant be a girl
without
her dad.

the tightness
the aching
the restlessness
the eyelid twitch
the fidgeting
the cheek biting
the leg bouncing
the staring off
the autopilot
the shallow breathing

all these things amount to one thing
holding in the words "i love you"
because you know it's not right

i grab my glasses
off of the bed side table,
i look at the keyboard
and place my fingers
on the keys that
spell out your name.
i dont want to write about
you anymore,
i want to write about the things
that make me happy.

"be present" he said, as he traced my face with his rough hands.
i laid there naked studying his hazel eyes
as i said, "i can't help but think about my future with you."
i never was present in the presence of this man. he took my breath away and i died a million little deaths that night.

i got a Bukowski tattoo
because of you.

i'd lay in your bed
and stare at your book shelf.
you smoked a cigarette
and drank your wine
from a cup.
you both ******
for the same reasons.
i'd grab the book
sitting on your night stand,
reading to you.
it's like you knew
his story.

why isn't there a movie
with a mid 20's girl
living in her parent's basement
with mental health issues.
she could question her future,
date a guy who hardly understands
anything she's going through,
and eat a lot of cake.
she works in an office
but takes a lot of sick days.
she sees a counselor once a week.
breaks up with her boyfriend
who constantly questions her sanity.
at the end,
she decides to live for herself,
move out of her parent's house
to live in the city
and she write a book about mental health.

i count the ups and the downs,
i match mine to yours
in sync we will always be.

i hope you can take it back
that thing you said last Thursday
when we were driving in your car
with the windows down
and the sunset glaring

i wont forgive you
even if your knees get ******
we've talked for days
but i cant even look at you in the eyes
you're never going to be the person
that i once knew

if we rewind
to the moment where i first touched your hand
id rememebr how it felt
when i thought you were the one
that walked into my life for a reason

you sat there staring at me
like you could never get enough
you squinted and twitched,
a smirk on your face.
i smiled, then you said
"i love you"
it spilled from your lips
like you've been eagerly
waiting to say it.

"i love you, too"
rolled right out of my mouth
without hesitation,
without any doubt.
we sighed at the same time
finally feeling at peace.

you're alone with your thoughts
in the middle of the night
while the whole city sleeps
everything feels strange;
missing.
lonely.

like bell hooks once said,
"you don't fall in love, you simply decide to love."
but how soon are you allowed to decide?

if the timer runs out and no one says it,
what happens next?

is it a race to decide to love the person
you spend almost every second thinking about?

is there a right time to say it?
a specific number of days or months
and if you say it before, are you banished to the
'too soon freak out zone'?

breathe in, breathe out
it doesn't work like they say
its going to explode
out of my chest

i shake and i tremble
i stand up and get dizzy
nauseous and spots everywhere

i cant breathe
it hurts too much
i cant stop crying
my mind won't quit racing

breathe in, breathe out
this is how i die
right here, right now
there's so much pain

muscles ache and eyes hurt
focus on something
i'll be ok,
its just anxiety

every now and then
a surge of uncertainty
plagues this racing mind
i have been hurt before
one too many times
am i going to fall in love
just to break my own heart
are you going to stay
even if i try to ruin this?

waking up alone with pillows on either side of my body
I turn over to look at the ***** white wall
my stomach gurgles because it wants coffee
my eyes water at the thought of you
I sit up and there's a cat at the end of the bed
I put my feet on the cold linoleum
I slowly walk toward the kitchen
there is a congo line of ants across the floor
it's that time of year again
I prepare my coffee with half an extra scoop
the smell reminds me of that time
we talked in a coffee shop for 3 hours
I come back to earth when I hear a meow behind me
I eat cereal from the same bowl i used from the night before
the coffee maker beeps when it is done brewing
i grab a vintage cup from the cupboard and pour
just like when i poured my heart out to you
and you left me on the bridge alone
i sit on the couch and reread texts from a few months ago
today is the same day as yesterday
the only difference is your ghost is haunting me

am i allowed to be jealous of the people
who are my age and sometimes younger,
that have the things that i want in life
but weary that they will ever happen to me?

the babies, the love, the marriage, the house.

i don't even know if i want children
but the thought of being the only one without
terrifies me to no end.

i am 28 years old with a path
that i should have been on when i was 22.
i will be done school with a bachelor's when i am 30 years old.
i have dated upwards of 10 people in that time
with no prospects of a future with any.

this might be inspiring to some,
but to me,
this is downright laughable and brokenhearted.

how many days until
i'll feel like myself again?
help me. help me. please.

10 years i waited
to find the perfect, the one
we were together for a year
happy, comfortable
i didn't expect it
the loneliness you left behind
i wanted you
you wanted me
its over now
back to the beginning
of ******* someone else
but thinking about me
we cant be together
we cant be apart
we cant be
we cant
we
i
you
someone else

i've said it once
and ill say it again.

the only way to write perfectly
and in tone with your insides
is when you have a broken heart

or else words get too jumbled
your brain becomes calm
your stomach, resting.
your heart is full and taped together.

there's a difference and it shows
there''s nothing to write about
when you're happy
sane
not depressed
loved.

I am not rough around the edges
I am not a badass,
and I do not worship the devil,
well, not the way you think I would.
I definitely do not sacrifice babies
unless I were having an abortion.
There is no such thing as Jesus
and I don’t pray to God,
but I will say his name in vain.
The only thing I believe in
is myself,
and that’s only on a good day.

I have crucifixes hanging on my wall
in all directions and sizes as decoration.
Antique Jesus stares at me
when I ******* in bed,
or get high in my living room.
That’s sacrilegious, I know.

My rituals don’t involve
naked women and blood,
but rather bubbles baths
with a side of red wine.
I’m sorry to tell you,
but I am just an average somebody.

i try to see passed the ***** glass that blocks my eyes
i end up focusing on the tiny, scattered particles
the smear of someone else's face oils
reminds me that at one moment
someone cared enough to kiss me
i use my shirt and the warmth of my breath
to wipe away the smudged memories
i can see again
but when my vision becomes blurred again
it wont be because of you

as i walked into the cold and eerie room
the empty-minded people stared at the tv
not noticing that a visitor has arrived.
i walk toward my grandfather
who doesn't recognize me anymore,
instead he calls me by his daughters name.
i notice a strange lady walking toward me
and i stop in my tracks.
she holds my elbow, brings her face toward my ear
and whispers "the devils in the chesterfield"
as she points toward the couch that is being occupied,
and then continues to walk away as if nothing happened.
i feel a chill down my spine as i greet my grandfather.
the room became haunted the more i visited.

Margaret had the right idea,
talking to God about her problems
as simply as she could.
dead pan explaining the torture she feels
while being a 16 year old girl.
what if i talked to God then too?
would i still be a messed up 26 year old?
are you there God, it's me, Ally.
there has been a pit in my stomach all day,
and i want to dig it out.
the boy who broke my heart months ago
wants to come back into my life
and i don't know if i should let him.
do you have any wise words for me, God?
i feel stupid asking about this because
i already know the answer.

i look in the mirror
and my eyes don't sparkle.
i listen to my favorite song
and it doesn't give me goosebumps.
i cry to the moon
and i don't feel the release;
the sadness leaving my body.
i curl up in my bed
and i can't feel your warmth.
i stroke the paintbrush
and the colors are dull.
i fiddle with my rings
and the anxiety gets worse.
i put on my clothes
but i still feel naked.
i have a bubble bath
but the water won't stay hot.
i am blank.
i am empty.
you're gone.