tonight my heart
sings me to sleep
with the broken melody
of a love lost



I wasn’t raised to feel,
I was raised to think.
To bottle,
to blame,
to fake perfection at the expense
of my self-worth,
my confidence.
Any signs of cracks
were shamed.
I don’t know how to navigate
a mess of a world that thrives
on passive-agression.

-my mother’s answer to problems is therapy

pocket rocks


where are you in between today and ten years?

It’s not a mathematical equation;

50 percent here 50 percent there

80 percent now 20 percent tomorrow.

My yesterdays a collection of polished rocks I keep

locked away in a blue velvet pouch.

Magnifying glass broke from bending to see the future

when all it’s been inspecting is the past.


I was always supposed to be right there;

dancing on the tightropes of your insecurities and secrets.

You let down the bridge to your tall castle you built for years, keeping everyone out.

How is it in there?

Are you lonely? Is it cold?

All thoughts I ponder as you stare at me through the crack of purple window curtains;

like I’m a wild animal, a stray on the streets.


But I’m not a stray, I’m a person;

and I get scared just like you do.

But tell me why give someone a key if every other day you change the lock?