Punching Bag

I still love you even as you pound your fists in the only way you know how. I love you even though I am no more than a passing thought to you. I know you hurt. I know, because of the way you are hurting me. In every punch, I feel your soul, shaking. I feel your pain, and it is okay. I’m not bitter now, because I know you need this.

I am your punching bag.



Some homes set sail

a little place called home

wobbly roads

sails ashore

night skies and sunsets

people coming

and going

but always staying

the same


another place I once

called home

sitting by the water

below our feet

reflections of stories

of things untold

a love

so pure

so tender

we fear homes

like these

which move away

from our grasp

no trace

but tears

along the dock

she sits

looking down

reflections staring back

of memories

she knows

-she can’t go home

A letter unsent

I wish I could tell you how much missing you hurts. I wish I could tell you how much I need you right now. How I light a candle next to my bed, and imagine what it would be like to burn my skin. How I think about taking my car keys to my body as I’m driving past our spots. How much more I hate myself, now that you hate me too. I wish I could tell you these things. Maybe then you would listen. Maybe then you wouldn’t have left me all together and all at once.

tu me manques

*you are missing from me*

The day you left me.

It wasn’t the day we ended things, that I felt my heart shatter before me. This day, although saddening, was not the day I truly lost you. Today, my body aches because I know you are gone. The past few nights I fell back in my car, let the tears drift down my body, and slept as I drifted into the silence of my mind.

My Cloud

It’s been a while since I’ve written on here. I’d say it’s because I’ve been busy, being a college student and all. Although true, it is not the main culprit. I call this perpetrator, “my cloud.” It is grey and dull. It is exhausting and consuming. And although it appears quiet, do not be fooled, because it is a roaring thunder that strikes without mercy. It comes and goes like waves. It sends my hands scrambling through my hair, with hope that the weight of pressure might calm the storm. It sends my body to the cold touch of the wooden floor beside my bed. Anything is better than being in bed. I lie there, my face blank, with tears washing down my face. It is now quiet. The storm is taking a nap. I wish I too, could take a nap.


nature’s words

I feel different. I must see and hear things that other people don’t see and hear. The trees and the way they move with the wind, tell me stories. The flight of the birds give answers to my questions. The breeze reminds me to feel alive. The sunlight between the leaves lets me know she is always with me.

-Aunt Leslie

you aren’t alone

do you feel it                                                                                                                                       the breeze outside                                                                                                                          your closed window

don’t worry                                                                                                                                              i can feel it too

can you see it                                                                                                                                           the world zipping by                                                                                                                             the traffic lights flashing                                                                                                                       from green                                                                                                                                                to yellow                                                                                                                                                  to red                                                                                                                                                        glaring through your window

don’t worry                                                                                                                                               i can see it too

can you hear it                                                                                                                                         the silence in an immense crowd                                                                                                        it’s like watching from a window                                                                                                      as if you were never there

don’t worry                                                                                                                                               i can hear it too

-you aren’t alone