i think sometimes
we are so worried
about trying to be happy
that we forget
what exactly
that looks like

I drapped his shirt over my bare skin
hoping it felt like home,
just like yours did when i put it on.
But it didn't quite hug my skin
the right way
and the smell didn't take me to
the sky like yours did.
And every time i left
his place all i could think about
was you and where you were.
I wondered if you were with her
and i knew that was selfish considering
i was leaving another's house.
I knew he didn't care about me
half as much as you cared
about those you loved.
And i knew you probably cared about
her.
And he didn't tell me to text
him when i got home safe,
like you would.
And i counted the cigarette burns
on his skin and wondered
if the burns you left on my soul
showed through my eyes
my laugh
and my voice
cause god only knows
you nearly burned
every part of me.

The lesser gifts.
I hold.
Loosely in my hand.
For they could fly away.
At any moment.

The Greatest Gift of all.
I cling to.
Never letting go.
For He is the One.
Who keeps my soul.
And to Him alone.
My life.
I owe.

She's** the most alive, when it's two.
Pl­anning for things, she won't grip.
Writing drafts, she won't speak.
Paper and ink, her only sidekicks.

She's the most alive, when it's­ two.
Laying, grieving, contemplating.
A war between her aching heart,
a war between her craving brain.

She's the most alive, when it's  ­two.
Ecstatic and melancholy, the two extremes.
Scribing something she won't think.
A smooth verse of her insomnia.


n.e