Friday, February 17, 2012

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It happens in dark rooms
And kitchens
In break rooms and walk-ups
On front porches by front doors
And at work.
It occurs on Mondays, sometimes Thursdays
(when you least expect it),
It comes, without warning, on weekends
Before birthdays.
It stops for nothing,
Not time or distance
Or space or breakups.
It happens, and you don't get to choose
With who.

And that's what's beautiful about it.


Wednesday, February 15, 2012

It goes on.

And in this next heartbeat, I'll forget your skin
And the way it felt to wake up next to you.
I'll let go of being yours, and of the anger
Of being led to believe lies.
Two seconds from now, I won't remember:
Laundry Saturdays
Video Games
Watching movies in bed
(not even our first time).
The CD in my car may not change itself,
And I may wake up tomorrow feeling sad,
But I CAN erase you
And your eyes, your smile...
I can lock myself back up, throw you out;
I could put a million walls and doors and
Miles of space
B e t w e e n U s .

And it would help, yes.
But it's still not what I want.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

We'll get past this.

So I'm going back through my life,
In dreams and in conciousness,
Trying to relive nightmares
And find the point where everything changed
To try and remind myself of who I was;
Who I plan to be again.

When I drink, I'm her.
When I'm home, I'm her.
With Jason, and Jayla, I'm her.
But here, in the cold cold night,
On a lonely street in Hattiesburg
Trying to tell myself that this feeling
Won't be forever,
I'm struggling to express myself fully
Because I'm scared...but of what?


Saturday, February 4, 2012


I used to live for the nights,
Getting tangled up in the stars
On cold beaches
And swimming in underwear with the boys
I called my best friends.
Now I chase the sunrise,
Strive for the moments between sunsets
Because those hours gave me you.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

How to detect loneliness:

Another new home, again
But I won't cry this time
Despite the aching loneliness
That comes from, well... being alone.
And my heart might be breaking with each breath
From things I can't rightfully blame on myself,
But I won't hide from chance,
Pomp, surprise, or circumstance.
I'm turning houses into temporary homes
(It's what I'm good at)
Even when I have to do it on my own.