Poem: As It Is

Like a rose,

Pain may be,

Its petals the flesh,

Her thorns a cutting-edge,

When all should be present,

Her color shall deplete,

In forming red trails,

To pool at her feet,


In admiring glances,

Does she romance,

Yet once near, she can protest,

The pain of being kept,

If gripped too firmly,

Through the petals, she’ll split,

Where distress in you spreads,

For she will admire her effect,


When agony is but a rose,

You accept your woeful fate,

Because the mark she leaves behind,

Will outlive the beauty in her wake.

Poem: What Once Was, Shall Never Be

​You used to brag,

About all the ex-lovers you kept as friends, 

How different you were,

How unbiased you became,

So excuse me if I wither at your words,

And your claim to old flames,

For I sit extinguished,

In everyone else's gaze.

Every pleasant word spoken,

For anothers worth,

And as I sat with you for years, 

All I’m left with is tears,

Of what we used to be,

Of what we could have been,

And now, at the edge of beginning and end,

I teeter between both as I’m want to do,

Stuck in memories of me and you,

So when you say you rather part ways,

Excuse my lack of words,

I begged as much as I could,

To make you see my worth.

Instead, you saw me as a monster,

Waiting for our end,

When in reality, it was the opposite instead.

With open eyes, you saw,

Without truly seeing,

And as I watched you fall,

From the man I thought you to be,

I gathered up the last bit of me,

And slunk away,

Ashamed at how things came to be. 

So excuse me for my tears,

I’m not yet done mourning,

The plans that we were making, 

The old we planned on sharing,

And with clear understanding I sit,

A hollowed out mess of the girl I used to be,

When everyone had a piece,

Once done,

They did away with me,

So, excuse my lack of begging,

I’ve done more than enough of that,

If you can’t give me a little bit of understanding,

Then I can’t fight you on it,

I needed you to see me clearly,

But in a fog, you fought the wrong fight,

When I showed you my inner demons,

You made up new ones for me to fight,

Instead of being there,

You left me alone at night,

And in my heart of hearts,

I started to see no light.

So excuse me, my grief,

For I’ve never been here before,

When I thought we would be forever,

It meant I’d be watching you leave through that door,

Of a home we began to make,

In easier of times,

In the days we had hoped for,

But now we’ve parted ways,

And even as I sit,

The memories that were made,

In my head, I think back,

On the lovers, you made friends,

And how even as darkness looms,

A part of me still craves, 

For the man you were back then,

The one who bragged about your difference,

And how unbiased you had been,

When we first started,

Two bright-eyed in love kids,

Now I sit,

My fingers tracing your words,

That in any kind of way,

We will never be,

Something so poetic, 

I guess,

Was never meant to be. 

Wait: My Love

​Waiting,

I think,

Is such an awful waste of time,

We spend our lives waiting,

For the week to get better,

For agreeable weather to be had,

For Life to be less stressful,

We wait and wait,

Oh, do we wait,

If waiting were our lover,

Oh, the time we would have spent.

Closure

​Closure,

He says,

In my reality, 

I didn't wish for this,

When I speak up,

It's painful,

Almost inconceivable, 

But I do it with heart, 

If I voice my hurt,

It's substantial, 

studied, 

thought on,

It's nothing I would hold against,

But something that tears me up,

So when I spread the doors wide,

I want to save what we have,

When my mind says to take flight,

My heart tells me to fight,

I wage a war between fact,

And the fiction that keeps me safe,

With broken heart shards scraped into a heap,

I hope you hear what I mean as I weep,

Yet in true fashion,

What I meant gets twisted,

Shaped into something else,

And when night falls and lies lay between us,

Heavy like wet shrouds on a line, 

Where once love was made,

Now promises lay broken,

When the voices of others cloud my already unsure portrayal,

And your eyes remain unopened,

I quiet. 

In the stillness of the house, 

The silence that claims space,

With my unquieted sense,

Where do I hide?

If not In my mind,

From the recollections of us,

From the life that we shared,

And the future we prepared,

Now all that stretches out,

Before me like a holiday spread,

No fanfare to be had,

Over this Thanksgiving bread,

But choices that were made,

Sacrifices that were had,

All I end up here, 

Is solitary,

Crying in our bed,

I still.

With choices made,

And words left unsaid,

I'll let you assume,

What you rather instead,

I'll be the villain,

It will be better that way,

Then to tell you I love you,

And devastate your day, 

I'll stay reserved,

It's best to not be in the way, 

From the healing you need to do,

From our parting of way,

Where once you were the best of me,

It's hard to exist where you are not, 

Then to understand who I am,

When you are where you are not. 

But in the end,

I digress,

After all,

I want what will be best. 

How It Used To Be

​.

When I feel loneliness settle heavily in my bones, I turn toward my writing and create, remember, and live another moment in my favorite memories.

I’ll just disappear for a while. I drift in and out until unconsciousness takes over, and I'm lost in happier times.

I fix the bad parts and plaster over them with something new.

Like repairing a hole in a wall, I create something from nothing in hope of anything.

And even when my reality has changed, at least I can’t visit them when my world hadn’t imploded.

They’ll smile at me still, their laughter ringing through the cold quiet of my house.

They are the treat I spoil myself with over my morning coffee or right before I go to sleep…

How it used to be…

.

Hooked on a Feeling

​I messed up and fell in love with a feeling. It’s as nonchalant and auspicious as it sounds, loving a feeling, not just a person.

Falling for feeling is this emotional journey, a rollercoaster of ups and downs and whispers to yourself, wondering if you have gone insane. You may have, which ends up being fine until you can’t explain it because It’s overwhelming. 

You spend your time with eyes closed remembering the warm embrace of that feeling, that all-consuming breath of fresh air that filled your lungs after years of stagnant, shallow breaths. Your heart feels full, your eyes are bright, and you just feel this irrepressible need to smile as wide as you can because you are filled to the brim with a happiness you only tasted once or twice. You feel it thawing your cool, dark corners, ironing out your creased edges, clearing out the corners you sat in too long without this life-saving touch of magic. 

And it’s addictive.

You spend your life chasing that happiness high. It’s when you continually fall short; you’ll lap up any little drop you can get in the hopes of remembering that one time when happiness completed you. 

You’ll research, you will look in every person's eyes for arhat light, search their hugs for that chest-expanding pressure but end up getting frustrated with human touch when nothing ignites that tiny flame.

You keep on breathing your shallow breaths, gulping in the stale air with your tight chest, hoping to fill your crumbling facade with a passable amount of lackluster joy.

In hopes of holding out for that feeling, you felt only so many times before, like an addict at the alter waiting for that one little fix of pure joy of human existence.