Creative Writing · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Reflection · Relationships · Writing

Two Years

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I could talk about how on this day two years ago you broke me. How a piece of me was cut out, burned and brushed away.


I could recollect on leaning on that raw wooden post, a cigarette in hand but I won’t.


I will not talk about how you left me at my most vulnerable moment. Or how I yearned for any morsel of your affection to be told, “I never loved you.”


Seven years and a thousand lifetimes passed as you lived with the one you did not love.


Still, we will not remember such things.


Even on tonight when I sung along to the music that defined us, you and I. How we ran on punk rock, drunken nights, and playing lovebirds in the desert. The music and the wind runs through it.


This dead salty memory.


No, today I will recall how these things did not and could not defeat me.


How the darkness of one defining moment could not stop the sun’s rising.


Two years and I run from you like the horse in that field. The grass below my feet and the future a bold blue sky.


And even on tonight when I vow not to speak of you, I can not help but miss your presence. In the dark desert sands the music plays on.


Without you. 

Creative Writing · Depression · Free Write · Poetry · Pondering · Writing

What am I?

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What am I?

A mass of memories

Firing between cells

Billions of rows of suffering

And multiplying by the wayside


What am I?

A cold person

Walking through the hallway

Down the street

Another face to pass 


What am I?

They called me a woman

Still I took off my shirt

They said the streets are for men

And that I would get hurt


What am I?

A soul wandering

Never satisfied

There is no home for those

That can not find comfort


And I know you will run from me…


What am I?

They asked

A five year plan

Or a family

These are the things you will be remembered by


Not by the quiet firefly

Or by the blades of grass you felt between your toes

Not the wind in your face

On the playground

Or in the field on your own


The sun will be the only one to remember your face

The billions of passerbys

Just stopping to say hello

Creative Writing · Free Write · Melancholy · Poetry · Reflection · Writing

Mommies 

Today

Conversing with you

I asked about your earliest memory

And you told me about the time you

could not find your mother

How your baby sister cried and cried

So you picked her up in your tiny arms

and carried her through the rooms

You took her down the giant wooden steps

into the dark basement

And your small but strong arms

still held onto your sister

As you continued to call out

You started crying as you admitted to me

That it was your scariest memory

And it made me think perhaps

This is who I am

Generations of scared little girls

Still searching for their mommies


I recall tonight how precious these moments are

As I remember the last time I sat with Grandpa

In that same room

Four hours passed

Without noticing

Without counting the time

Sometimes you just can not know


I have an image of us walking on the beach

I was 13 and we kicked off our sandals

Sand squishing in our toes

We were gone two hours and missed dinner


I will always remember the smell of your home

Mixed with your perfume

And grandpa’s cigarettes

Sometimes I get a lingering scent

As I walk down the street

Or through a hall

The words do not exist

The letters jumble and fade

Like another day

We wash this world away

Free Write · Poetry · Pondering · Sleepy · Writing

When you forgot about what you started last night…

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Sometimes I drive through the city at night.

There is no reason or purpose.

The smell of night and I listen in silence.

There is a sadness.

A melancholy.

The kind of moment made of whispers that no one else will hear.

I roll down the street.

The city lights in the distance and all I can think of is you.

You.

And the earth turns gently and with reason even though you are not beside me.

I remember your words. Begging for me.

Please please please you tell me.

You say it like I owe you.

Like I am the one who left.

Flashes of half felt and unmet images pass within me.

I see a funeral.

I see a laugh and a boy I fell in love with.

I see the man I begged to come.

All these things that you will never know and did not care to remember.

In the house on the hill, the home in the hole, the rooms built of stone I found you.

Creative Writing · Free Write · Healing · I Miss You · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Pondering · Reflection · Relationships · Sleepy · Writing

I Always Will

I loved you more than any other chosen person in my life.

I still do.

I still miss so many pieces of you.


Sometimes I hear or see something that only you would get.

And I hear your voice echoing in my mind.

I hear your laugh next to me.

It is almost like you are here again.

And all the terrible things you did never happened.

Other times I feel lonely because I know there are

Aspects of this life, of this world that only you and I could ever remember and find special.

There are so many generic things in this world.

Repeats and reproductions.

But you are not one of them, not even close.


You are more special and beautiful to me than words can ever describe.

Trust me, I have tried over and over again for close to a decade.


My only wish after all this time, is that you could somehow see what I could.

Oh how I tred for all these years to give you what will take a lifetime to discover.

I wanted it now and that was selfish of me.

I know that.

But still, I miss you.


I wish everyday that we could have been, should have been…but I am slowly letting that go because I have to for my own sanity.


Please know that when I sit alone at night, wrapped in a blanket or looking up at the stars on a warm summer night that I remember you.


Not the ugly.

Not the lies.

Not the addictions.


I remember the soul I fell in love with.

That person exists.

The goodness you fear and the struggles you tried to hide.

I remember your excitement and your eyes and your pain.

I remember that I loved you purely.


Everyday since the beginning of time and into our next lives, a piece of me will always be waiting for you.

I will love you always, even when I know I must do it from afar  

Creative Writing · Free Write · Melancholy · Personal · Poetry · Relationships · Writing

Nothing Will Ever Change

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I do believe a part of me will always love you. It is something I did not want to admit and at times I wish this was not true.


I loved you into the depths of the darkest moments, into sickness and hell and then back again.


One can not pretend that the burns and scars i picked up along the way never existed. I see remnants of them when I look in the mirror and when I open the door into the sunlight.


It was in the early mornings that I found you.

And on late nights you left me.

Searching in circles, and I can not find the key.


I walked you drunk and stumbling into your bed again. In a foreign house. In an empty room you had to survive.


I kissed you goodbye and I meant it.