“Even my tears fall for you.”

Grief visits us all differently but at the core – it rots us a little.

You shine bright but not everyone can handle the light don’t dim down from the rebound.

My path to healing is only unto me I let it take me where I need to go.

My lips thirst for yours but they are desert dry our hostile environment has weathered our love.

What gives in letting go is so much better than what stays with holding on.

Friendships made rejections laid follows stayed unfollows played saves surmount algorithm count Instagram disses and emoji kisses.

You sucked all my love and all of me through your hollow straw I wish I had known there was nothing on the other side.

We were – one. I was closer to you than anyone – ever. So tightly bound. You breathed for me and I lived in you.

As I unfolded my hand she took my palm her eyes narrowed on the heart line and I knew by the look in my eyes I would always be heartbroken.

I miss you but not as much as I regret leaving myself to be loved by you.

This is a poem about love its absence is merely an optical illusion.

The shelter is where I am when I am with myself.

I have emptied myself of a heavy burden today lifted it out of my body and placed it down its not the end but it’s a beginning.

My heart is my muse my blood is my ink my pain is my pen my words are my healing.

Why do I push up against the ones who will not have me like a wave pushing its way on the sand when my people are in the ocean and we naturally flow to protect each other.

Authenticity feels like the glue that has put me back together I feel whole and aligned in every word.

There is an ocean of silence between us, and I am drowning in it.

If you cannot hold me in your arms, then hold my memory in high regard. And if I cannot be in your life, then at least let me live in your heart.

My poetry breaks and cries. I think I really need to let you go this time.

How strange that our hearts heal from the same thing that broke it -love.

I tell myself I can live without you. And it terrifies me that I don’t know how to.

There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe, but not for us.

We’re a very expensive group; we break a lot of rules. It’s unheard of to combine opera with a rock theme, my dear.

I couldn’t help wondering if that was what God put me on Earth for–to find out how much a man could take without breaking.