There is nothing romantic about a love
that used to be, a love that happened,
and then ended, just like everything else
in the world. People often romanticize
tragedy, like the kiss that almost was,
the “maybe” that could have been but
will remain a “what if” forever. There
is nothing beautiful about something
that once was, but died. Ended. Failed.

#bemymuse 9, as requested by @kerflooey_

Everybody has that one

My first time doing #spokenword 🙂

The one with bad timing, the unavailable one, the inaccessible one, the one with baggage, the one who is all wrong for them. The one they think they see everywhere, the one they wonder about, the one they find themselves thinking about even when they wish they wouldn’t, even though they know they shouldn’t. Everyone has that one who has moved on, whom they tell themselves they’ve moved on from, and yet still makes their hearts skip and their stomachs flip and their fingers type flowery words into phones at ungodly hours.


Memory is flawed.

It dredges up only the best and the worst of things, and never the uneventful and mundane. I’m sure we’ve had a lot more memories, yet I can’t remember mornings that were as simple as making a cup of coffee or just us sitting beside you in silence. I’m sure there were days where we fought just so we could passionately make up, and nights that ended blissfully, but they are buried deep beneath the darkness of the cracks that ended us.

I am sorry if the latter is all I can remember. Our legacy deserves better, but memory is flawed, and I have nothing.

*For Day 29, Our Poetry Journey Contest
January’s theme: abc’s Revenge


You tell me to meet you half way,
but not one step in my direction.
You tell me how desperately you
want me, but you don’t extend your
arms to pull me close. You say you
can’t live without me, but you live
beyond the ocean, beyond what my
eyes can behold. You say I am always
in your mind, but I share that space
with the hundred reasons why I am
not by your side. You plead with me
not to forget you, but I swear
I’ll keep trying till I do.

Broken vessels

Things I tell myself in the shower:

  • It has to be possible to will yourself to stop wanting someone.
  • Your heart is not broken, that’s stupid, if it were you’d be dead.
  • Nothing hurts, it’s just your imagination.
  • You’re better than this.
  • You will be okay.
  • Be okay.

*For Day 9, #novembernotes hosted by @thesarahdoughty @areadingwriter and @mah.writes