“What a gentle curse: to still want you after all we’ve been.”

Maybe the universe breaks people in different ways so they fit when they are together.

What a terrifying thing it is to heal.

The embers of us no longer keep me warm. But they still set fire to everything they touch.

Some days, all of it aches with beauty.  Others, it all just aches with you.

To survive is to drag yourself from the water and forget what it is to swallow salt.

Please don’t let me sleep. I’ll only dream of her.

You are more than the things that have hurt you.

Of course, you don’t know how to love me. I’ve never known how to do that, either.

She lost herself, a little, in that darkness but returned with stars beneath her skin.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that I don’t want to.

I miss you. By which I mean I’m jealous of the soil that gets to hold your bones.

These days my bones are shifting, trembled things. I am more earthquake than anything.

Love is a child with a gun in her hand.

I don’t know if you are the water or light. Only that you can flood a room.

You taught me to believe in love and then showed me exactly why I shouldn’t.

And again my mind runs to you in the way that rivers can’t help but return to the salt.