My body is weighted
And my bones ache
But my mind is wandering
And my soul misplaced

(I can’t sleep….)

Traveling to the only
place of comfort
It has ever known

I’m falling.


( Shh.)

Morning woke me with aching fingers and the burdensome weight of you heavy on my mind. Holding my guitar and fumbling over every note, I imagine you. Your eyes gazing over me in a crowd, as if I was invisible - until the music effortlessly plays from my fingertips, singing each word in harmony, my heart on my sleeve. I imagine you…noticing me.

Hours have passed and the sun has long left, replaced by a cold breeze and a dark starless sky.

I lay my guitar down beside me, my fingers numb and calloused, realizing that somewhere between morning and now I had lost you, the crowd, …the imagined moments. But, in the midst of the music, the repetitive strums and voicing my soul alongside every chord, I found myself.

*Tonight, I will sleep peacefully

I want to fight you
and never close my eyes
for I’m afraid when I do
I will find the memories
of which I can’t let go
I’ll relive all he is
all I was beside him

To wake from this
desperately grasping to find
his heartbeat
feeling it as nothing more
than a pillow between
my trembling white knuckles

Knowing it was just a dream
Is to relive the relentless ache
of losing him all over again

My heart is soft
You would never know
From the outside I’m stone
And on the inside I crumble
To think of you,
                  only you

I hate the four letter word
That springs from mouths as quickly and effortlessly as hello
I hate the restlessness it brings
To nights where loneliness fills your sheets wrapping you in its arms
I hate the overwhelming hope that shines blinding us to imperfections
The way it teases your mind making you think everything before was worth it
Because it brought you to this moment
I hate the way it tricks you into believing it will never ever leave you
And as swiftly as it swept you up from under your feet it drops you in some place that appears to be home but comes with none of the feeling
I hate it - passionately
Yet so desperately I want nothing more than this word we call “love”

In all your lovers
There is not one like me
For as many as you take
There will never be

Adieu.

there is something beautiful about a memory
that reaches from the pit of your stomach
latches onto your heart
and pulls it under your lungs
placing you in a moment
that once saturated the marrow of your bones

when you close your eyes you can
feel, see, and be just as it was
with carrots, a park bench, the night sky,
a bottle of spanish wine
and his arms cradling you against
the chilling wind

it takes you so deeply into
the inscription he carelessly carved
across the back of your eyes that
when you open them again and exhale
you find it fogging the midsummer air
releasing the very breaths you took
by his side