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October Nov 2018
Healing is a like a purgatory
where I spend my time bouncing back and forth
between feelings of "over it"
and "I'll never be the same"
Trying, grasping at feelings of sane.
In this temporary hold of time,
where I don't have control over self and mind,
I pray
I pray for myself
for happiness and health
I pray and I pray for the day not spent lying awake,
awake in thought of me and you,
awake in thought of a time in place where smiles rang true
a time in place before I had any sort of clue
of just how south we were heading
off the road into a dead end
a place where the ground all of the sudden let in
no support below, we were falling
the fall was hard, to the point it knocked me out
when I awoke I had come to find
that we had landed in separate places of distance and time
so purgatory I sit
until feelings of sadness and anger no longer fit
October Nov 2018
The same sad rhetoric
Running lines of deepened wounds
Repetitious stanzas in bitter tune
Get a clue, my girl
Dig deeper to words more provoking
These same sad lines have you choking
Let’s take a break
I hope to strand together a sense of letters worth more than just the meaning of heartache
I feel stuck in my writing. I’m not growing or expanding my subject matter. My words are stale. Same sad story. Come on, next girl.
October Aug 2018
We will both move on to be
better, stonger,
different people.
We will find the one,
the right one.
I like to think that maybe,
maybe in another life we were meant to be.
In another life we find each other,
again, as we always do.
In this other life exists a love;
A love that is intended to be carried out;
A love intended to be seen to the end.
Just unfortunately, not in this life.
In this life it’s goodbye.
In this life it’s never again.
In this life our love,
our deep, deep love
has come to an end.
Some love never dies. It just temporarily ends. Until we are reborn where this love picks up again. I will find you. In the next life.
October Aug 2018
today is your birthday
I hope you know that if I could
if I could say it
I would say happy birthday
but I cant
I can't congratulate you on another year
but I hope there's cake
and candles too
like the ones I used to do
but that's over
however, your day is not
so take a shot
"cheers to 28"
today is his birthday. the (ex)love of my life's birthday. but i'll never tell him happy birthday and he'll never know i wrote this.
October Aug 2018
Heartbreak is an inevitable thing.
I knew this. I knew that throughout the course of my early life, I would experience many heartbreaks.
You know, the ones where it wasn’t meant to be. Life designed to have these strategically planned heartbreaks so that you could grow, you could learn.
A pain so real, it is as though the pain is literally reconfiguring your insides as it moves through you; staying just long enough to shape you, but not long enough to become you.
Our hearts like a key getting resized and fitted for the next lock.
Getting so far into the lock before realizing it’s not a match, our heart, getting shaped and sized per each of these attempts. Shaping up until it finds the right lock; the day when your key fits and you know it’s a match – the feeling people refer to as “when you know, you know”.

Is it possible, however, to find your match- the lock that you are finally meant to open, but while turning the key something goes wrong?
What once was a perfect fit, now sits ajar. The answer: I don’t know.
I loved a man.
A perfect fit.
Our love was trusting, it was giving, it was deep, and strong, and passionate.
I loved this man with all of my being;
and he loved me back.

This man is dead.
That’s what breaking up with someone feels like, anyways.
It is as if they are dead.
You will no longer talk with them, share with them, kiss them, hug them, touch them, love them.
They will no longer hold you at night while you sleep.
They will no longer embrace you in the morning, kiss you when you wake.
It is as though they do not exist.
Not to you anyway; or you to them.
October Aug 2016
Fingerlings of trust branch out to touch.
You provide a sense of hope,
I hope to keep hush.
As to let you in to this home
would just be to much.
Hollow wood struck with amber,
stands tall between your face and mine.
Gold flashes out of the corner of my eye.
Round in presence, it turns as you persist to try.
I raise my hands to push against the standing mass
now opening in my direction.
Move slow I shout.
Beyond this threshold is a cluttered home
that renders cold, inept of warmth.
Give me a moment,
I'll start a fire to warm the air that now stands in front of your face and mine.
October Jun 2016
I want to love you
I try
I try to get out the
Out the sentences but something is
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