Cream or Sugar

Maybe in another lifetime,
Our fates liberated from the confines of continents,
The injustice of timing,
The pre-existence of her, him, and them.

Maybe then…

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                                                                                                       You’d know.

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Texas

I truly believe that people come into our lives for a reason, at just the right time, to enrich us in some way- to steer us in the right direction, help us realize our potential, and remind us to live and love fully.

But sometimes, these lessons are as painful, as the reasons are unfathomable. And their messengers, more menacing than we thought humanly possible.

I might never understand why he came into my life and what lessons I was supposed to learn, but I do know this:

These messengers can try to strip us of our dignity, shatter our hearts, and reduce us to ashes.

But know this: we are the fire- the embers, and the ashes, and out of the ashes, we will rise, hellbent, with grace and grit.

And We Will Burn. 

TEXAS

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2 A.M.

You laid on my chest,
Counting the beats,
As I counted yours.

Smiling, I waited,
Hoping you would say,

I think they beat the same.

 

 

Broken

Kintsugi is the centuries-old tradition of repairing pottery by filling in cracks with gold, with the understanding that the piece is more beautiful for haven been broken.

Kintsugi

 

 

 

 

No love, you are not broken.
There is nothing to be fixed.

You are just beautiful in a way most can’t understand.

But you don’t want most, do you.
You don’t need to be understood by those.
Who can’t see the beauty in imperfection.

 

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Naked Guise

You will not find poetry here
Here, no poet resides.

Just a collection of words
Infused with magic, (which cannot be defined)

Summoned by a gypsy soul
Hiding behind a naked guise.

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Naked Guise: Poetry Undefined

We need to talk.

I don’t think this is working. It’s, I just, the timing is bad. We’re both in different places…

But I swear, it’s not you, it’s me.

Okay, I, for one, don’t need to hear that conversation again…ever.

So instead of torturing you with a dramatic exit (when you know I’m just going to come back when I start to miss you), let’s try this.

This isn’t goodbye. We’re just going on a little excursion, an adventure of sorts…and you know how I love an adventure.

It’s not as mysterious as it seems (probably less so for you, than me). And, they say there might be magic to find, summoned by a girl...hiding behind a naked guise.

If you need time to think about it, I understand. But when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting here, where Poetry’s Undefined.

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This time it was the apple, but I’ll keep trying.

I received a request for something a bit more substantial than “just a quote,” and another for something more, “I don’t know, about butterflies or what you did in Australia. Something happy.”

Right, okay. Butterflies. Happy…

So I sat down, opened up a new document, and took a bite of my apple…

Mushy apples, wet peanut butter, cigarette smoke.
Caged animals, plastic straws, tree stumps.
Distended bellies, oppressed souls, false hope.

Hiccups, parking tickets, splintered wood.
Sirens, screeching brakes, raised fists.
Apathy, the sound of pain, someday I should…

You deserve the best, cold feet, flights home.
Broken promises, resignation, empty words.
Rainy days, sleeping alone…waking up alone.

Starting over one more time, one more time.

I’ll try again next week…or maybe the next.

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Okay, here is my offering to make up for the absence of butterflies. The thing that always feeds my soul, even after the mushiest of apples.