Friday, August 23, 2013


Months ago
you burned
my hopes
up in smoke
with five words
it took
eighteen years
to say,

"It's not you,
it's me,"

and one phone call,
one hour later
all is forgotten. 

I am exactly right for you,
don't you see?

Of course you do.

But it's me,
not you,
who's blinded
by a dream
of what will never be.

I love you too much
to ask you
to settle
for me,
no matter how good
I would be


You split me open
and scooped out
the good stuff - 
everything worth knowing,
everything you loved. 

Then you stuffed me
full of paper
and stitched me back up
so that no one would notice
you took more
than your cut. 

Why is all of me
still not enough? 

It's like eating
the pie filling
but never the crust.
Nothing good is left
except the crumbling flour dust. 

I fall apart
without my heart
to pump
the blood
to my hands
my head
my feet
my knees
and I can't breathe.

I am hollow
to the bone,
a shell
of the being
you used to know.

You took it all
and never thought twice
about the lack of life
you left behind.

I could name you enemy
or thief,
but what's the point?

It won't change
how easy
it was for you
to leave
or make you
come back
to the nothing
that is left of me.

Friday, August 16, 2013

Settle In

I feel the urge to take root
as if I am a potted plant
trying to bust through
the plastic or ceramic
and dig into the dirt
with my fingers and toes
until they are buried deep
in the earth. 

Each day the yearning
grows and I know
it is for the dirt here,
not back home
where all the memories
of you 
are interwoven
into the trees,
the ground, the grass
and everything
in between. 

I need space
that is my own,
where I can spread out
my roots, 
my branches
and leaves, 
where I can let loose,
where you 
aren't a part
of the landscape
except for where I
(and only I)

The space here
is an infinite breath
I inhale and never release.
It is magnanimous
and full of relief
all at once,
with the sun forever lingering
upon a horizon
too far out of reach.

My heart is as wide
as the open land
around me
and I have never felt
more free.
I stretch out my arms
like plant limbs
and wait for my roots
to set in.

Saturday, August 3, 2013


You turn up at the places
I wanted to go
with you
and take pictures
with her
because she's your person
and I'm the substitute
waiting in the wings.

I'm on standby
for a flight
that always seems
one passenger too many
so I wait.

I just keep waiting
because waiting
is better than admitting
there's nothing to wait for.

You seem happy
and I'm glad
but I wish just a little
that it was me
who made you smile
like that
when the camera blinked
its shutter
over and over
at all the places
I wanted to go with you.