i believe in the authenticity of emotion.

you feel it


let it burn away your rotted parts
let it flood your cracks
it will harden and fuse your bits and shards together
rebuilding the shattered self of the event.

the honesty of hurt.
the raw raw raw pain
loneliness shoving its long nails through my entrails, jutting and pulling and squeezing and twisting. grasping and strangling my being.

it is real. it is purely what it is. feeling cannot lie. it just is.


it’s a day to maybe make up for all the shit we put them through when we were younger. for staying out past curfew and not texting back
for meeting a friend two hours away and not letting her know
for making her sit through countless rants and arrogant speeches and hearing the excruciatingly stupid words coming out for your mouth that you can’t stop and smiling
for reckless driving
for reckless driving that resulted in a speeding ticket
for her trusting you not to break her trust and forgiving you for doing so
for telling her you lied
and lied
and lied
and lied to her face and risked your life and someone else’s
for having to tell her about a speeding ticket and getting fucked up on laced shit in the same sitting
for seeing her disappointment being quickly masked by love and care
and for all the shit you did before the past two months, also.

it’s a day to champion the woman who champions everyone else
to know that the love she pours into each and every soul she encounters is
put to good use.
that without that love,
you would not be able to be standing today.

hug your mom.
speak from your soul.
thank her profusely and marvel at her strength.
and do it every single day after today, too.
she has taught you so much more
than you’ll ever know.

if you ever read this mom,
thank you.
when i don’t have the strength of
or the love for myself,
i pull from the deep reservoir you’ve afforded me.
you made me the kind and generous and obstinate
and loud and meek and loving
woman i am today.
you warmed me with your rays.
i love you.


it’s been some time. let me try.

hands clenched tight and rhythmic movements
and eyes fluttering and squeezing and relaxing
like us
but all i can think of is you

i think of him and i feel boredom
intensely and passionately dispassionate
but you maneuver into the forefront of my thoughts
and i feel electric again
i feel what i have only felt twice
i feel it and i see you and i am close
and i become conscious that he is there and the electricity whines and it’s dark

and it’s dark.

and it’s been dark without you here.

he and him and her and them, they are not anything.
they do not haunt my movements or evoke my tears
or cut my soul with jagged and sporadic jabs.
they do not make me feel THAT.
it’s indescribable.

i think you knew
you knew i only felt it with the two of you
and that’s why you hated her
you hated when we spoke or when she spoke of me

i am pained by the complexities of my feelings for you.

i am jealous.
of her and him and them.
they get to feel you and see you and smile and love physically.

i will not get that again.


i suppose because most things get wrung out by the hands of
my everyday movements
but this.
this does not. we do not speak. we do not resolve.
a best friend infiltrates your system and
fills your mind and body with love
and warmth
and the coldness of your separation is like
an icy slush replacing my blood.

when we are not connected i am not connected.
a piece of my consciousness is across the way
living and breathing and loving and hurting
and she is unaware of this
she does not know how large the piece
i broke off and placed in her palms is.


this one will be hard
i don’t know where to start.
i don’t want to open my soul right now to your glory.
to your goodness.
because i know it will rip and be irreparable
i will be irreparable

i knew this was coming
didn’t know it would happen so soon.
it’s been gradual
but this is definitive
it was your decision.

maybe i need to change.
need to make a fundamental philosophical adjustment.
i need to start over.
i need to start over.
i need to start new.
i need to start over.
i need to get out
i have to get out
there is a reason for all of this
it helped me see how deep this ravine i’ve fallen into is
and the earth groans and shifts and fills in around me
fills in over me beside me under me
fills me

and i am finally where i want
i am gone and i am forgotten


i should be writing about the earth or beauty
or love or grace.

instead i am stuck here.
preoccupied with the past.

can’t get over it. know i probably should.

but her being is inextricably tied to
the hell and pain i feel.

did not want that. do not want this.

i am alone.
i am a child and i do not know what to do.
i am still a child and i do not know what to do.

what are are you supposed to do when you repeatedly put trust in someone and then they repeatedly betray it?

felt like i was going to die. was okay with it. felt bad for everyone else.
for those who would be hurt disappointed let down shamed saddened by this.

did not care about myself. do not care about myself.

but yet
at the same time i feel i do.
i feel i do care about myself and i am so sorry for her
i am so sorry for myself for what i allowed for her to be put through.

i wanted to say no but i didn’t know how
i know how now.

my rage is caustic. it burns through my skin.

i will not allow that to happen ever again.

but i am also so angry that i cannot face her
her, who promised to know what she was doing and promised that if i trusted her all would be okay
how can i
i feel traumatized
i feel unsafe, alone with her
simply with her being.
her presence makes me feel unsafe.

maybe i am still dying.

i have no trust towards her

once someone has lost my trust they have lost my love
my whole and large encompassing effervescent glorious childish yet eternal love

i am forgiving to a fault and i will not be any longer
i love myself too much to do so any more