i take it back

which i love you
was it
that broke us?
what day did i say it
one too many times?
i wish i could figure out
which one
marked the beginning
of the end for you.
was it the one i whispered
while you kissed up my thighs?
or was it the one i said
through a smile
(like an idiot)
too confident
because you had just called me
which kiss
sent you over the edge?
was it the one where I grabbed you
too tightly,
or maybe when i
too eagerly
pulled you back into me?
which look did i hold too long?
and which part of my soul
did i bare too openly?
that whole thing about hindsight
being twenty twenty
is bullshit,
hard as i try,
and as often as i
rewind every word
and replay every kiss,
i can’t pinpoint the one
that made you
stop loving me.


December 18, 2019


you ran through
my china cabinet
with no regard
treating the priceless pieces
like tupperware
not even bothering
to look back
as the leaning piles
tumbled to the floor
i shouldn’t have let you
stack them so high
but i had never had anyone
build me up
and i could never have imagined
the mess of shattered glass
you would leave behind
especially since you are the one
who created it from


December 18, 2019

a few things i miss, in no particular order

the feeling of your breath on my neck
and your hands in my hair
the way you called me baby
and raced to say “i love you” first
the way you shared your heart
when you spoke about your day
the taste of your skin
and the sound of your moans
the way i felt protected in your arms
and safe being myself
and how you always used to make me feel
like i mattered

December 16, 2019

question marks

unanswered questions
stick to my throat
as i choke on words
and a mouth full of
question marks
i bite my tongue
and seal my lips
trying to keep them all in:

      do you miss the way my lips
      always seemed to
      instinctively find yours,
      the way my hand
      locates a light switch
      in a dark room?

     or the way four letter words
     rolled off my tongue?
                miss …
      i wish i could set them free
      even just for one tiny second
      because they’re piling up
      in the back of my throat…

     speaking of…
     do you miss that? 

          i doubt it…

     but, do you ever wake up
     thinking of me?
     my sounds?
          (do you remember them?)
    and the way i
    grabbed and
    held tight?
         (pulling your hair
         or wrinkling your shirt)

     does your body still respond

     is there any part of you
    that misses my
    open book heart?

   or the way my eyes
   could speak in
   complete sentences

    do you miss
    the “babies”
    and possessive pronouns?

    do you ever accidentally 
    think of me
    as yours
    and then get a pang in your chest
    and wonder how a world exists
    in which I am

December 16, 2019


to the woman who loves him next

he takes his coffee black
and likes his desserts
sometimes he needs to get away
and wander in the mountains
(he likes the mountains)
and sometimes he needs your arms
to hold him tight
you’ll learn to know the difference
he likes the tease
of soft kisses before you devour him
he likes the feel of soft clothing
if you have it
he’s good with his hands
in more ways than one
if you let go
he will catch you
he likes fancy pens
and will journal about his day
his hugs will make all of your problems
but make sure that you
make him feel appreciated
and loved
listen to him
when he talks
he has so much to share
and every fucking day
kiss him like
he is your oxygen


December 4, 2019

i’m a fucking mess

i wish i could hate
i wish i could think his name
without a pang in my
or better yet
not think his name
at all
i wish i could eat something
it’s been three days
since my body has felt
it’s like my heart wants to share the
i wish i could stop wondering what he’s doing
and if he hurts
especially when i know he
this seemed so easy for him
the way he washed his hands of me
like dirt from his
i wish he had cared enough
to look into my eyes
as he spoke these words
instead of over a goddamned
text message
i told him how i loved riding
but he only held it to my heart and pulled the
i now understand that term
the physical pain
of my heart creeping into my
and i wonder
with all of these broken pieces
floating around my body
can it ever be whole again
or will my heart forever look like the
coffee mug
that fell from the top shelf
the one i tried to glue back
because it was my favorite
but between the sharp edges
and bits of dried super glue
it can’t even do its job
i only even keep it around
in the back of the cupboard
for the memories
another thing
did you know that when you cry at
the tears run into your
and sometimes you have to remind yourself to
you made me believe i was a chapter worth
but i guess you really didn’t want to read
the end


December 4, 2019


somebody once told me I was special: and other bullshit lies

somebody once told me i was special
i should have recognized the deception
by the saccharine aftertaste
those words left on my tongue
but my tastebuds only
noticed the sweetness 

when he spoke of my beauty
i could have looked in a goddamn mirror
instead of just my reflection
in the pupils of his eyes
i should have known they were too small
to see myself clearly

somebody once said my mind was sexy
and my passion inspiring
he said he had never been happier
than when he held me in his arms
he said the world would stop spinning
if we weren’t together

i guess that one wasn’t a complete lie
but it seems the only world that stopped spinning
was mine


December 4, 2019