A firework

exploded inside

blew apart the exoskeleton

shock-waved through

my veins

turning blood to black

to blue to red


the grey, cold

meat of heart muscle

beat Again,

pounding pink against silver



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.


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.


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.


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.


Why would I want to fit myself into someone else’s dream? Or force someone to take on mine? It either fits or it doesn’t. Jamming two puzzle pieces that look like they should go together doesn’t make them fit any better, and it ruins the picture. It also leaves those pieces out that do fit perfectly.

I can scream for you until my lungs give out.

I can long for you until my mind gives up.

I can reach for you until my arms collapse.

Wanting never breeds anything but disappointment.

Perhaps that’s for a reason.

Sure we could fall back into

easy love,

satisfied smiles and



kisses so deep we fall through

the earth,


My Lips were not enough

to hold you close,

My Thighs were not enough

to make you want to live in them,

My Laugh not enough

to make you picture forever,

My Love not enough

to make you stay.

Doing the same thing over and over

expecting different results

is not insanity.

It’s misery.


You weren’t there for the worst points

in my life.

Even blamed me before you knew the facts

And had to apologize later.

Weren’t even there for the ones you caused.

So why do I feel like I have to be there for yours?

The little masochist in me.

the end?

I think

I have to feel this salty, gritty

Unfeeling sort of feeling-

nothing feels right

And the pieces don’t line up

but I feel you slipping, slipping away

and it sort of feels good, like letting go

but it rubs against the skin like wool

Music that is incongruous to you

I find that I find myself not even

Missing you at all

Is this a letting go, love

Is this the end?

Can I wake up without you on my breath?

Will tomorrow be smooth at the edges?

I think I feel better.

I can leave you in that alley.

Leave you alone by the light of the moon.

Forget your name.

Think I’m finally coming home.