And I Know It Is Hard To Hear. But It Is The Truth We Both See And Choose To Look Away From. The Truth

And I know it is hard to hear. But it is the truth we both see and choose to look away from. The truth is that we were artists looking for a new muse. Searching for inspiration. For someone to knock down the brick wall of writer’s block. We were two people looking to feel alive again, looking for someone to light the ashes of our mind on fire. 

How long did it last? A day? A week? A month? Of sweet nothings and soft caressing terms of endearment. Of pages of poems and colour covered canvases. Of seeing the world in a new light. Manufactured arguments for the sake of making up and making out. Now? I look for any excuse not to write of you. Look away from your messages. Your glances. The tenderness in your voice. 

Maybe it is the guilt that keeps us here. For we both have sinned. Maybe it is the grief. In lost time. In knowing someone and yet knowing nothing of them and even less of yourself. Perhaps it is selfishness. On your part, in wanting me for the distraction I bring that you masquerade as healing. Perhaps it is selfishness. On my part, to think that someone may want a small part of me and I masquerade that as love. Perhaps it is arrogance. In thinking that our love is helping. 

But I am tired. Of living my life on autopilot. I am tired. Of acting like we have made this choice. I am tired. Of stealing and wasting time. I am tired of living my life on autopilot.  For it is barely living at all. And perhaps this is the issue with two artists being in love. The issue with two humans being in love. But rejoice, for heartbreak will free you and fill you with inspiration a new. 

love is only love at first, after that it becomes a convenience

I used to have a night light Because I was scared of the dark that pressed into me. Now I have a write light Because I am scared of the dark that festers inside me.

Bleeding Out

Our love was Untied shoelaces Stifled laughter in tear stained pillow cases Our love was Summer rendezvous Butterfly swarm in the hurricane Our love was Burning flame explosion With all the shrapnel Our love was Neck kisses Whispered words Our love was Teeth and Hearts Bared Our love was No secrets when the sun went down  And strange silence when it was up  Our love was Scorching Sudden

The Broken Boy Who Never Intended to Stay - Excerpt from the poem The Ways in Which I Have Been Loved

To the eighth grade girl who told me I looked pretty on the day I most needed it. I have not forgotten, you or your smile, as you went skipping back to your friends, and I held my breath. To the eighth grade girl who told me I looked pretty on the day I most needed it, you are beautiful, and I hope someday when you need it the most, someone is there to tell you.

The Intangible Things 

He smelt of coffee and cologne, and I did not mind at all.

All The Things I Never Told You

I know now Why you said it As he tells me he loves me Tells me I should open up more  As he tells me he loves me I feel the words clawing their way up my throat 'You don't even know me' I know now why you said it

And I do not blame you