make my own.

whatever comes
know that i’ve given everything i had—
all of my heart.
surprised by joy
laid open by devotion
freed by belief
i refuse the bitterness
that comes with this.
our lives are what they are
by accident or design
and i will not fight a losing battle
on my own.
within the confines of this one life
i can say i loved
unguarded and raw
and it was perfect.
i feel the distance growing by the day
and i am helpless in the face of it
but i will not allow this to define me
i am not afraid.
there is no light at the end of this tunnel
so i will make my own.


what we deserve.

we give meaning to the meaningless
and by extension form to the formless
in order to retain hope in the hopeless.
on a long enough timeline
we become but a vague memory of
something fondly remembered:
a ghost from a season of chaos.
i know what i am
and though we each beg silently to be something more
than distraction,
self-awareness is a heavy thing
i have no illusions–
none of this has meaning past its momentary transience.

i do not belong here.
i speak volumes but say nothing,
for words have no meaning when they are met with silence
you hear nothing of value
and patiently wait for my graceless, overdue exit
i have overstayed your reluctant welcome,
a persistant reminder of momentary weakness.
we seek happiness
imbuing the insubstantial with substance
by sheer force of will
desperate to be something more than inconsequential.

wanting to be seen and known,
to be loved like i love–
these are expectations unjust and unrealistic.
i must quiet the storm in me
learn to ignore the stain of sadness
become shadow and waste
and remember that the vast sea of dreams in youth
are only myth.
we become who we deserve to be.

engine of chaos.


will move past this
one day you will have forgotten
to remember him
to remind yourself of all the ways
you weren’t enough
to drag your nails along the edge of the wound
you knew would never heal.
it will be no more than a scar
faint and fading as time erases everything.
you found your heart
after so long an absence
and in the awful conflagration
you set your soul alight
and now you burn with the wild intensity
of a thousand nascent stars
the world you knew distant,
its former heartaches vague.
you will forget his name
and the hurt you allowed yourself to feel
the shame that sat unchecked
at the secret core of you.
you are so much more than this
each time you let truth burn its name onto your skin
to carve its sorrow into your bones
you become more real
more capable of the freedom that you seek
more able to love
with the bright chaos you hold in check
inside of you.
an engine of chaos
a sea of fire
warmth in the chill of the vacuum.
you will hold the center
until it is time to
let go.

tell me.

know that i am yours–
you are my heart.
know that every word is built upon
a thousand exhalations of sweet sorrow
you are the pain i am willing to bear–
this is my truth.
this is my perfect grief.
i have always wanted a love like this.
our impossible life globed
by the wicked hands of fate
just know that it is real
as i leave it behind.
i will love you
as you are
as you were
for all we could have been.
know that i will carry this love with me
until the very end.
just tell me
tell me that you love me.


we are drowning
and still we refuse to swim
strong currents take us
and the deep calls out
to deep.
the bitterness of love
still on my tongue
and the wide abyss of hope
ever beneath me
i had started to believe in redemption
i had almost broken the silence.
but now, my friend, at the moment of departure
i have neither the courage
nor the will
to say goodbye.

what are we holding onto, love?
what part of me is left that is not yours?
i have gladly given it all
expected nothing
demanded nothing
because i know the bitterness of freedom–

no one can stay.


i will hold the centre
until my hands bleed
and still entropy and atrophy
will take everything.
i’m not sure who i have become—
i don’t recognize this face
when i’m alone—
but she is lovely
and kinder than i’ve ever been.
i don’t want to be
me before you
but i can’t seem to stop
the bleeding.
tired of love
and the loss that follows
sick with disappointment
and the brutal emptiness
of exposure.
i’ve chosen this.
and it will not break me.
but i am losing ground
and poisoned by hope.