he held his hand
on the small of my back
but his eyes were on my sister

empty mailbox, empty inbox
yet the phone is filled to the brim.
this house is drained to silence,
and yet silence sings her hymn .
my heart lies beating and red,
yet cold in it’s black tomb.
mine is the only heart here,
yet my ghosts hearts fill the room.

I scream out into the air,
and my own voice to me does cry.
“is anyone out there?!” I ask the world,
“is anyone out there?!” is the reply.

why does it still hurt to know
that we both have wiped the slate clean
deleted the texts
forgotten what was said on the phone calls
and moved on

dear best friend,
I am so sorry,
but you were the reason I set my phone to ‘airplane mode’ last night.

the pain sears on like a hot iron against a raw heart.
it’s been exactly two months and the torment of knowing what was left behind, as well as not knowing what is ahead doesn’t cease.
bitterness is still my constant companion, and here I sit in the street that meant “home”, welcoming bitterness, for she is the only one who seems to understand.

what if I just
put my phone down for the night?
what if I just set my alarm and put my phone next to my bed
and brushed my teeth without a video playing?
without scrolling. without music. without a distraction.
what if I just looked at the real room that’s in front of me?
I have a small blanket acting as a curtain over my window, and from behind it I can hear the rustling of leaves in the autumn wind. it’s autumn. it’s October. it’s my favorite season. I don’t think about things like that when I’m desperately trying to distract myself with a complication or vlog or playlist.
I am now so curious. I used to go my every waking hour without this phone in my hand - and now I don’t want to be without it.
I can’t even do a load of laundry without trying to find a video to watch first.
but what if I were to go without it?
can I even imagine the colors I would see? the sounds I would hear? the things I would notice?
it’s such a beautiful, romantic, captivating world. I have a feeling if I opened myself up to it, it would wrap me in its arms and serve me well. the crickets and wind would lull me to sleep; the rising sun would kiss me good morning. The coolness of the early hours would make my skin tingle, and the walls of this house might look completely new.
I can imagine all the still moments I would get caught up in, noticing the drip of a faucet, my cat crossing the room, the sway of the porch swing. I might notice my breathing too, or the way my hair falls on my shoulder, or listen to the clearing of my own throat with full attention and intention. reaching out and holding something with two free hands.
what if I did that?

you know that song? everyone has one.
it’s a windy october morning, a winter evening, a silent memory, 2am when I didn’t say it but I wanted to, saying goodbye, frozen Pennsylvania in November, stillness and regret, full of love and intensity and ache and hate, blaming me, blaming him. I can feel this song. I can smell it. I can see it when I close my eyes. you gave me an entire world in this song. how do I miss it and never want to know it again just the same? how did you change an entire year of my life with just one song?

here lies what could have been,
what never would have worked out,
and what he wasn’t brave enough to give you, anyway.

lately my stomach has twisted itself into knots
because of my self deprecating thoughts
like a root forced to grow after rain
my stomach twists in revelation and pain
perhaps to wisdom I am simply giving birth
and if I wipe away the tears I’ll see worth
but for now it’s just twisting and hurts
every time I think “I may never be loved.”

nobody is a lifeline anymore

don’t you DARE text him
saying you thought of him tonight
after a song you heard. 
you’ll cut your skin on
his empty words  
while your heart surrenders common sense.
you’ll be flooded with memories
washing you down a river
of what could have been;
you’ll forget that he can’t feel
in that heart of tin.
how three months of staring
into those eyes at two a.m.
meant at the end of three months
you were still alone; crying at two a.m.
he said you meant so much;
you saved him
but I guess saving someone isn’t enough to keep them within
contact
even after all that vulnerability.
I guess being there
when he was crying over her
wasn’t enough
to earn you credibility-
even if it was at two a.m.
so empty words are like a razor blade;
like empty carbs
scraping down your throat
and cutting up your stomach.  
but that’s the thing about empty carbs,
you keep craving them:


so eat up

all I know
and all I’ve known for a really long time now
is that our smiles look really nice side by side

get a life saver, girl. before you drown in the sea of words he has to speak of her.

i hope that when i meet forever,
it looks like you.

i wish i could go back in time;

so this could’ve been a different rhyme.

a rhyme in which i poured out less to you,

a rhyme in which i actually knew what to do.

instead, i sit here, left behind;

watching you fall in love with someone else’s mind.

i know i keep saying that im fine,

but, god, i wish i had a different rhyme.

he may not look like much
but he’s everything to me.
he’s not a king or a prince,
but if they saw what I see

they’d understand:

when there’s such a good man

she’s bound to fall in love.

he was a whirlwind;
a storm that wouldn’t last,
and he would leave her
to pick up her broken pieces
on her own

she doesn’t know what she really wants

but she feels it making its way up

through the valleys of her emotions

over the mountaintops of her soul

past the guards of her heart

her answers clambers and climbs through her being

working to finish their journey on the moon of her mind

to land there

one giant leap for her

she waits until the sunshine of life’s answers

explode into existence

over the horizon of that moon

tearing up the fear and the foolishness

she had to suffer through

the growth she had to grow through

the pain she had to hurt through

the smiles she had to fake through

to find that something that makes the smile real

that reminds her with her alarm

“get up today, babe. you won’t regret it”

the answer

the something that makes her

ask for an extra hour each day

the eyes that promise to be there

while she sleeps and on to the morning

the mouth that speaks words to build her up

and keep her up

so the answer waits to come out

the answer to what she’s been asking for

since she was in her nightgown

at her bedside

asking for her prince

asking for her true love

and boy, she will find true love in you.


9-30-18

I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.

and if I walked 10,000 miles
i’d be no closer to the moon.
so i say goodbye;
i close that door.
10,000 miles;
still no closer to you