i once was told
that i loved too much
my lotus heart
opening too quickly,
yearning for a love
deeper than i could handle.
i may be soft,
but i am also a fire
and you are the only one
who sets my heart to bloom.

you burn me.

and it isn’t anyone’s
fault but mine.

i gave you the match
in the first place.

how do I

empty something
never filled.

throw out something
never there.

lose grip on something
never held.

move on from something
I was never in.

Poems aren't written,
they're found,
Somewhere in your head the words are waiting,
They're sprawled across the floor,
You just need to pick them up,
Make a path with them,
Let your path guide observers,
And if you can't write,
Walk down somebody's else's path first,

i liked me better
when i was with you

Words don't heal anymore