i'm not sure what to make of this ( Read more... )

we will wait for years
the longest story
only to meet
and die
all the in between
the
chaos
the hunger
the uncertainty
certainty
convictions
walking and walking and walking
apart
we will bury
ourselves separately
what am i waiting for darling?

where no longer will you wake to the scent of rosemary and morning; where no longer will she crawl behind you and gracefully wrap her arms around your naked chest and kiss the back of your neck; where no longer will you watch her body drift into other rooms across the flat to let rohen out and fumble in the kitchen trying to make coffee only to ( Read more... )

we are always leaving. trying to find somewhere/someone/something to compensate for the pain. only to learn there is only more heartache in leaving. but without the act perhaps we would never know how we feel/felt. sometimes we can not return. sometimes can't move on ( Read more... )

it's the end of the year.
it's been four months since i have posted in here.
i am now living in portland, me.
the architecture here is amazing. the brick streets. the promenades. the people.

it's bound to stop snowing...

If this city were a system then she would be the sun ( Read more... )

the way shoes fall apart is ( Read more... )

it's 648 and i should be close to there.
but i dread it.
the everydays.
the silence.
the long mental pin pricking.
and then the picking up.

a prisoner.
a mind that will never be free.
a heart that was broken when it first breathed breath.

?

i'm struggling mother.
the superficial-ness.
the extremes.
i need to go.

to be alone again.

a july morning that smells like the deadened leaves ( Read more... )

your mouth ( Read more... )