he says soulmate & he’s praying—
he’s down on both knees,
begging. if you’re listening

he chains his still-beating heart
to a girl who looks an awful
lot like an angel. she smiles

like a savior, but her wings
are just fragments,
gauze broken at the first touch.

he says soulmate & it’s a promise—
but her ledger can only hold
all the unpaid debts, all the empty

hands offering a sacrifice,
taking much more
than they get.

she is scraped hollow & he
doesn’t seem to mind. a boy
in love with love, he fills

her empty spaces & she
despises the idea
of letting him go.

Inspired by this post


Coffee, part Three.

Ah, we meet again. 🙂

I’m seriously craving a cup of strong coffee, even though it’s about seven in the evening, here. I’ll probably resort to making myself some tea. Just a heads up; I’m battling a major headache but I promise to at least try to speak to you in coherent sentences. That deserves some praise, don’t you think? *insert sarcasm emoji* You don’t have to laugh, I’m not that funny anyways.

You ask about my week, and for once I have something to tell you!

I recently purchased a book of poetry by the wonderful Ashe Vernon, a book called BOATMAN. I don’t have words to describe how that book makes me feel. It was the best 12 bucks I have ever spent. Also. I sat down and watched Me Before You, which was a beautiful, quirky movie with just enough humor and sobriety that earned it four stars from me. I’d give it a five but (SPOILERS) any movie that makes me unnecessarily sad can earn four stars at most. (Okay, no more spoilers, read on.) I also read When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi. It was an amazing book; the perfect marriage of medical science and the English language. I highly recommend it.

I believe that covers everything… I know, two books and a movie isn’t the most exciting week, but I happen to enjoy unexciting things.

I’ve been struggling to write out a novel idea that’s been playing in my head for more than a year. It’s not working. Oh well.

Some blog posts that caught my attention this week:

I hope you enjoy your week! Until the next time.

my surrender.

you’re small,
you use the sharpest thing
you come with: your teeth.
crooked incisors with just enough
chomp to scare. you’re only
as strong as your bite.
you take solace in song. hum
yourself a lullaby
in the darkest, softest part
of the night. whistle
through those teeth.
sometimes it turns into a prayer,
but you never take responsibility
for those hymnal slips.
you tie up your hair
with rubber bands, always
pulling out more than you put in.
strands tangle
around your fingers
it doesn’t know how to protect you,
but it feels like safety. you pretend
the mismanaged curls are ringlets
in a crown. but gold
has never been your color.
now you lie down,
now you take it. they never saw you
as a queen. teeth alone
don’t count you as a warrior.
they say your name
like a question, say it like
a recitation of something
they once believed in.
you’re not surprised.
no matter how much you try,
the crown will never fit
as well as it did back then.
so you discard the royalty,
so you make peace
with the love you called a god.
keep your hands
open & waiting, for something
like sleep to comfort you.
he’s never been a gift-giver,
but maybe he’ll make an exception,
for you.

heavily inspired by this post



he asked for reasons to stay,
all you could give him were


it’s too late to save this one.
we gave a pretty life all we could
afford. now there’s nothing to regret
on the cold nights you spend alone.


we’re far too young for our own good,
traveling skylines, scribbling goodbye
notes like a written apology might
save us.


the spaces between
her fingers are empty.
she traces lines
of lies over her skin:
words like fine, okay,
she bashes her beliefs
against walls that bleed
names she won’t speak.
there is no peace
within the four walls she calls
home; in her mind
she is a raven with no wings.
she is stuck on the ground
envious of the birds who fly
above her with ease.
the faces that observe her
behind glassy windows,
as if that’ll keep them
safe from her misery,
watch with careless gazes.
their eyes roam over her like
searching hands
that never find what they’re looking for
but keep looking anyway.
they pull at her skin,
gnaw at her bones.
they are brutal with a broken body.
their words are their weapons:
lies like fineokay,

five truths.

i. I fight necessity with silence, trudge through my day like the house is a jungle, not soft carpet. we suffer together, but I hold myself to sharper knives than you.
scrubbing walls & floors, we expect pristine but are presented with looked-down-on. given shame for these four walls. home smells like life, like children & adults with too many problems. but the windows stay open.

ii. new choices, daring yourself, asking for what you hope will satisfy. playing roulette with your tongue. sticking to known & ashamed.
we laugh because we love each other, because no one wants to point fingers, no one wants the debt of disappointment. we take chances with our taste buds, not our hearts.

iii. fulfill expectations. be what they whisper you are, proving their assumptions right. hide your face, but open your arms.
your hugs are not bitter.

iv. for heaven’s sake, I’m still a child, still growing. discovering pieces I didn’t see in the instructions. I’m missing my guardian angel & I’d tell you if I could. but you didn’t teach me about my mouth.

v. pillow, be kind. nightlight, give me back my memories, those hushed conversations I never bothered to record. take away today so I can dream my way to tomorrow.
inhale exhale. repeat.


I don’t usually write in this style, but I figured it’d fit for this Discover Challenge… the preceding paragraphs are a response to / were heavily inspired by this post. Image found here.  

via Discover Challenge: The Poetry of List-Making

love story.

once upon a time, a moon
loved a planet. she loved
a planet called Earth, loved
him so much she carved
herself so she could fit
beside him.

once upon a time, a moon
traveled the galaxy, she traveled
from ice & rock & open emptiness,
so far & so long until she forgot
what was once a home, she made
a home beside him.

once upon a time, a moon
carried starlight to a planet called Earth,
a moon toiled at his tides, gave him
center & a nightlight. she lived
to breathe beside him.

once upon a time, a moon
awoke in Earth’s inky darkness, she
watched old lovers walk the shores,
she smiled at toddlers who grasped her brightness.
she loved a planet called Earth & loved
to be beside him.

once upon a time, a moon
became a ghost, a reflection,
tethered herself to a planet
called Earth. a moon longed to be
beside him.


in my loneliest nights
I called your name in the darkness
you might respond.
I traced your likeness
over my pillow, imagining
I could draw you beside me.
I would reach
(& I might’ve torn a muscle,
as if I could grasp your hand
when you were never there.
you were never there & that
terrible truth tore my heart
in two.
it’s a complicated mess,
this common happenstance
of remembering how much
of a one you still are,
how much you are
one silhouette, one side
of a bed.
the coldness of these sheets
wasn’t a bother before,
but things change.
I’ve changed, more than I realized,
& I am confused
by the nighttime silence
that no longer comforts me,
confused by the thought
that I could love a ghost
so much. you are
my sleepless apparition,
what I believed could save me.