The End.

I thought of you today. I felt the gray shadow of you stretch across my memory as I remembered where we were so many years ago today and what we were doing.

The planet started to slow and I felt my balance become unsteady as the brakes started to squeak and grind.

But I pushed on and gradually the earth started spinning again, too.

I thought of you today.

But it didn’t stop my world.

I didn’t let it.

Jeff & Coldplay

Remember, right after Jeffrey died and I was so sad and broken?

And you found me outside of the diner, half in and half out of my car listening to “Fix You” so loud you almost couldn’t hear my ragged breaths and choking sobs?

Do you remember when you came, and you helped tried to put me back together again?

I do.

Thank you for that.


I’m seeing a lot of things regarding the body renewing it’s cells every 7 years. It’s been about 3.5 years since I last saw you, which means that there is a half of ou that I have touched and kissed that still exists.  My lips have danced across cells that are still there.  Half of you still knows what I feel like. But days pass and soon it will be four years and over half of your body won’t even know that some nights my skin wanted to be an uninterrupted continuation of yours.  In some number of weeks, the majority of your body won’t be able to recognize mine.


My cells renew as well.

And they’re forgetting you too.

May Snow

There’s a light snow in May.  The white, flurry of seeds from the trees shower down.  One of them whispers into my car and it gets lost and it will never fulfill it’s destiny- it will never bloom.

I can’t help but think that maybe I’m a seed that got stuck as well.


You know when you run hot water over your fingers the pain doesn’t register for a moment?

But then it stings for twice as long as the water was actually touching it? My heart feels like that now.

I guess you were my slow burn.

Drink Up

“Soaking it all in” is so passive. I’m drinking you in-swirling you in my mouth and taking unapologetic gulps. I’m letting you dance on my tongue and run down my throat. Because I’ve been so thirsty and you showed up just in time.

No title.

I loved you with my whole entire heart.

And now it’s back and it’s all wrinkled and rotten and soggy.

And it’s used up and weak and sick.

So I have taken to meticulously building a small wall-

I layer a rock and a pebble and a leaf and a flower and I tie it tight with dandelion roots, leaving only the top of my beating mass exposed.

I kiss my weary heart gently, eyes closed, then I seal the top of this satchel with one final stitch.


Around that I lay brick and mortar, I surround that with fire and brimstone.

I scoop out a mote around this fortress and fill it with unsettled waters- crashing waves.

I barely get out of this, my own deadly obstacle course, alive.


I come to shore, bruised- and I look back at the walls and roadblocks I’ve created.


If I, the creator, can barely make it to and from my sad little heart, how can I expect anyone to come save it?

How can I expect someone to slay the dragons, cross the  mote, put out the fires, break down the walls, and then gently untie the knots on the envelope around it?

Only to do all of these things to find a sick, unlovable, mass?

To expect these things is unfair.  To expect saving AND healing- it’s too much.



I will dissuade princes and kings and knights from coming near.

Its better I keep the location of my heart very secret.  I will do my best to make sure it stays hidden and safe.

I won’t talk about my heart, I’ll quiet whispers of it.

I will pretend it doesn’t…that it never existed.


Better to be safe, then sorry.