a shaky understanding

around you

i’m less


around you

i’m shaking


stomach in knots


smiles woven from heartstrings

stick together with tears


“please don’t see me”

you won’t like it


around you

i’m too quiet

thoughts too loud


“please don’t wait”

i’ll take too long


i wish i could-

i want to-

i can’t-

i don’t-



empty flames

via Daily Prompt: Dim

the fire is dim

it flickers, fails, falls

the lighter is broken

old and used

cigarette stubs circle pavement squares

a summoning of smoke

the streetlamp is dim

illuminating ghosts

the lighter fails

and there is no one there

to fan the flames


“they seem like the type to use words loosely”

empty hands

empty mouths

blurred keyboards

and graphite lines

the type to throw phrases around and laugh with their whole body


the type to misunderstand

lines written in sand

a fate unmoving


they seem like the type

to move forward

they seem like they’d ask

not care

they wouldn’t notice what you hide

in words

and second chances



you’re the farthest

empty intervals

free space

the distance is too much


they called me hope

but the air is pushing that out


short words

shorter breaths

smaller smiles

when i’m alone


and tears

when i’m with you


but i can’t do that again



buds of green stay closed

longer than they need to




white flowers were promised

next to red roses

valentine’s day memories

the next day

is always worse


light kisses

closed lips

waiting too long

to bloom


Ghost (a sonnet)

I would forget your name a thousand times

To drag myself away from ocean waves

I’d leave you there alone in sunshine’s eyes

I’ll never be the one for what you crave

A ghost is all I’ll leave you there to be

To scream of all my horrors, hopes, and dreams

The ones I left you for are lost at sea

I’m stuck inside the city with machines

The curse you left on me is bound to break

It will not last as long as you foresaw

Like me, your words will drown in a blue lake

Like me, your words will burn like dried-out straw

I will forget your face and voice and love

If it will set me freer than a dove



My first post in 2018!! It only took half the month… I’m doing my best ;-; Nonetheless, thank you for 60 followers and I hope you are having a good January thus far. If not, there’s always the next 11 months 🙂 


The Comfort in a Shooting Star

via Daily Prompt: Cozy

The sky is dark and cloudy, making it impossible to see the stars. The ground is white- coated in snow that no longer falls. Everything is still. (An everlasting kind of still. A frozen in time kind of still. A broken watch, whisper-talk, it all stops kind of still.)

She wishes that her brain would stop. Huddled over a tiny heating vent in the corner of her shoe box-sized apartment, shivering under a thin comforter, she prays her thoughts away. The couch only a few feet away from her sits unused. When her room was too cold, the woman moved to the living room and sat down on the heater. At this point, it feels like too much effort to move. She shivers once more and breathes out a sigh. Then she hears footsteps pad down the thin hallway. A short pause.


She turns to face the voice. Her roommate stands there, tangled blonde locks flowing over strong shoulders. Her sweatpants hang loose and her old T-Shirt is almost a crop top at this point. The woman wears a face of concern, years of being the “mom friend” coming into focus. Striding across the room, she sits down next to the other. “What’s wrong?”

A shrug in response. “I don’t know… just cold.”

“Hm.” Her friend doesn’t know if she can believe her, but decides to go along with it. “Well… come on sweetie, we can share my bed.”

She lets herself be pulled along, soon entering a familiar room. Efficiently, the blonde woman adds her comforter to the pile of blankets on her bed and grabs an extra pillow from her closet.

“Here,” she says, gesturing at the perfectly made bed. “I need some water, but get warm, okay?” After a small nod from her friend, she leaves the room.

The woman pushes back her dark hair, a stark contrast to the younger woman’s blonde, and lets herself curl up under the covers. There is a kind of comfort in the apple scented sheets and flat pillow. It’s an early morning kind of comfort. A melting snow, orange leaves, rain on windows kind of comfort. A first love kind of comfort.

Soft footsteps enter once more as the woman places her half-empty glass on the bedside table. “Good night,” she whispers once comfortably under the blankets.

“Night,” she responds into the dark. But when the younger tangles their legs together, she could swear she sees a shooting star.



you are the stars

and the moon

our sparkling distractions

in the night sky


you are woven of blue threads


and turquoise

almost black

and almost white

always shimmering with silver


you are loud laughs

echoing in empty rooms

bouncing off walls

that are brighter around you


you are every love song

hidden smiles

secret glances

starlight kisses

and youth


you are a gentle hum

waves gliding on rocks

and quiet “you’re not alone”


you weren’t alone




Why would it bother me?

It shouldn’t.

But “should” was never a word I lived by.



That’s fine.

It’s fine.




Whispered between tear-streaks.



Muttered in the silence.

Pushing “should” away.




I trust you.

You’re safe.


But I’m not.




Pointless Epiphany

“I’m really sorry… but no. I’m sorry…”

I pause, waiting for it to sink in. But strangely, it doesn’t hurt. I keep waiting for the sting, the heartbreak, some kind of utter devastation. But nothing happens. I just feel bad for wasting their time. Perhaps embarrassed at how they perceived me.

It doesn’t hurt.

“It’s alright,” I carefully respond. “Really. I hope you have a good day.”

They walk away, worried despite my assurance. And I wonder if I ever really wanted them.

I think I’m relieved.

I don’t know what that says about me.