wrong number.

via wrong number.

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wrong number.

i’m sorry

your call has been disconnected

the number you are trying to reach

has been emotionally unavailable

please try your call again when

-they have realized what life is all about

-they have given up their teen years

-they have aged mentally past age 12

-they have gotten their priorities straight

-they have gotten over their ex-wife

i call and call

but the number

doesn’t seem

to work,

at all

at all.

Untelling the story.

we talk

I listen to the good and bad,

the wishes you had,

listen to the space between breaths-

I think I can undo this.

Undo the hurt, fill those spaces.

We’ll go back,

unwind that clock,

Undo the should’ve beens, the wish I’d’s,

Let’s untell this story.

We can make our own time machine

fueled by the electricity in our touch,

the heat from our kiss,

we can do this.

You give me your past

and I’ll give you mine.

We’ll cancel it out.

We’re untelling everything from this

moment.

Unraveling all that hurt until we find-

we’ve quilted something extraordinary.

traveling.

His fingers travel

up the length of my legs

criss-crossing my hipbones,

trailing my stomach and

swirling around my breasts

Leaving a glow like fireflies

in their wake

I’m lit up, bone-deep.

When the morning sun

hits his beautiful face,

his long, dark eyelashes open to reveal

his honey olive eyes

and he tell me his dreams-

with just a few words

I travel.

untitled.

A firework

exploded inside

blew apart the exoskeleton

shock-waved through

my veins

turning blood to black

to blue to red

again-

the grey, cold

meat of heart muscle

beat Again,

pounding pink against silver

tissue.

detonation.

you are

the landmine

I keep stepping on-

until little pieces of me fly away.

Dangerous path.

The men roll up in tanks.

The men ahead dig you out.

They scope and scan, searching for any trace.

I follow behind.

I know your tricks, your graces,

the graves you dig.

I was all whole.

Until I stepped on your landmine.

Now I am pieces-

and learning to sew.

fraud.

sometimes you fall in love with the wrong person.

sometimes your heart betrays what your mind already knows.

sometimes you see what you want to see instead of what is actually there.

sometimes you fall for a fraud.

a sleight of hand,

a fallacy.

do not blame yourself.

self-hatred only digs the hole deeper in your aching soul.

it is a lesson.

teaching you to rely on yourself more,

to listen to your body, your mind, your being.

be afraid to love again.

the biggest lie in the world

is that recovery means learning to trust again.

recovery is learning to trust yourself again.

let others come into your fold,

not the other way around.

Unvanquished.

If I have loved you,

You were lucky.

Because when I love,

I love with every last bit of me.

From the roots of my hair to

the tips of my toes: I am yours.

I love fiercely.

My love is a rarity in these

throw-away times.

But if you took my love

for granted,

You will find that

It does have an end,

The brightest light in your life

will burn out.

Your soul will be lost

at sea.

My love takes no prisoners.

Before.

Someone comes along. They put a large band-aid on you. To help your wounds heal. That same person comes and rips it off. Then, when your wounds are worse, they come along and put a new band-aid on. Then, they start to pull that band-aid, slowly. One little piece at a time. So slow you can barely tell, except for a quiet throbbing. But finally, the last piece is removed and that someone disappears. Your wound is exposed. You are the same as before that person existed.