time
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The tilt of you, the fractures where the light slips in. I trace your doubts like constellations. Your mistakes beg for reverence, a desperate proof of life. I shaped you into a vision without weight, perfection hollowing all meaning until I warped your memory just to survive. There is no hesitation in standing bare, skin
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I used to think that love could make time stop, but he taught me time is irrelevant. He could infuriate me like no one else, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more exasperated with someone. I could never bring myself to intentionally hurt him. Yet, the fear of missing out on something so painfully
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One of my favorite quotes comes from a letter John Steinbeck wrote to his hopelessly romantic son. In it, he reminds him that love is real if he believes it to be so and encourages him to embrace it without fear. Steinbeck speaks tenderly about the many forms love can take, from selfish and cruel
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Fantasy kissing the cheek of reality was the birth of my mania. The innate beauty of life is addicting to me, and I underestimate the pain that comes with it. I forget the company Pain keeps— how Loneliness is a friend of a friend, and just as deadly. Those two make the world feel foreign.
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It’s hard to define a boy like you. So lovely and hard to resist. Enchanted by your smile and how soft you kissed. Like a secret two kids would whisper at night you said my name. When you held my hand, I forgot the world with a boy like you. You said beautiful words that washed
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The sound of the ivories being played lifts attention to my beating heart. The melody so sweet and without charm pierces my senses. I sing out into an open space, finding myself in a clearing where my wilted flowers lie. A once beautiful meadow built for color and life. I blame the sun, the moon,
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I’ve been avoiding writing more than a poem. I can express more with a metaphor in print than I could ever say in my own words. So, here I am saying more than a few lines to get by; and damn my life has changed. Last fall I went through a lot. I was dealing with the in-between.
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How do you start a letter to an old friend? To an old lover that loves turned bitter? Once feigning indifference, Month’s later prone to my own hearts negligence. I’m on rooftops with inebriated thoughts; Those choices we made cost a love lost. How long did you wait before your loneliness got the better of
Wishful Thinking 