Nice and slow
That's how we loved
A day at a time
Falling deeper and deeper
Forging bonds
Every second together
Exciting and new
A life growing and growing
Until eventually
We reached our tallest peak
How quickly
We crashed and burned
We dropped 
Just like our hearts did
A divebomb 
That broke everything 
The lowest point
Is what we ended up with 
Nice and slow
That's how I recovered
Horribly fast 
Was how you moved on

Beneath the weight of the moon, won't we
resemble all these shattered constellations

And finding a good place to feel sad; is my
reflection melting out of your eyes– a scene
of when tears cascade down your cheeks,
when I always seem so far away

As the echoes of all bygone aspirations fade
into the hue of cosmic dust; my voice fails in
calling out your name – as every fallen star
falls out of its spark, betrayed by the dark

In Time, and Again… is where we rediscover
the essence of falling in love again.

How could you ever understand
The pain that you inflicted upon me
The dreams you left me with
The rerunning of shared moments

You walked away with a smile
While I stayed in the same place, empty
Stayed in the same feelings, hopes
Stuck in place, wondering why

You laughed, you soared, you ran
While I am paralyzed, trapped, clipped
Weighed down by the memories and emotions
You gave it back to me when you were done

You made new friends, new memories
I withdrew from mine, from myself
I hit replay every hour, every day
Holding what was left in vain

You looked forward, head held high
Mine dropped low, looking back
I called you my everything
You called me a steppingstone

How could you ever understand
When you can't even empathize
How could I ever understand
When I can't even let go

I write this poem
For three to see
for two to like  
and the one who will lie awake is me

I work and toil and pick my brain
for the right words to fall to the page
for only you to see
my pretty words and not my tear stained face
behind the screen

My works Ive raised up from sprouted seeds
Now live on digital pages,
srcolled past, theyll be.

My writing was meant to live on beautiful pages
That will bring the love of writing to new ages
of children and dreamers, soñadores ,
with stories to tell

But for now,
three people will see them
two people will like them
and I am the one lying awake at night
full of unrealized dreams.

Here on this ledge
where many come to sit
in solitude, or with company
they leave behind pieces of their grief,
fragments of their love, seeds of their hope
stopping to take a breath
swallowing their words
for a minute of silence

and every time, I plant these things
with the little dandelions,
that make you sneeze
so there's something to blame
for the red eyes

because nothing blooms here
without carrying
someone's story
for you to read, for you to feel.