His words still ring in my ear; I’ll be back, don’t worry. I can still feel the cold seeping through the soles of my shoes and starting a slow tremor up my body - September never felt so long. I want nothing more than to forget him. To forget those last moments that wake me up, drag me out of bed, and demand a better life for myself. Five years, that’s what I gave him, and he never came back. I watched the moon shift in the sky as the seasons passed and every night I waited at the door bent over and tired from the day before – wishing to forget his promise. I still see his smile; I feel his arms, I remember every single second.

When he got the call that they were transferring him to a new station my heart dropped. I wanted it to be the end. I didn’t want to drag on the inevitable, but he wouldn’t let me go. He still won’t let me go.

I met someone new, three years and two months later to be exact. He was warm, funny, and careful. He never made a single decision without weighing the possible outcome. I always knew what was going to happen because every moment was planned out. He was patient with me for just under a year, but a week before the one-year mark I heard a car pull into the driveway and from a deep sleep I was suddenly awake and stumbling out the bedroom into the hall and out into the yard half naked with tears streaming down my face. There was no one there.

The sudden reality that I was still in love with another man ended my relationship in less than a week. As he packed his things and loaded up his car, he looked at me with the sincerest apologetic look he and said, Goodbye.

All I ever wanted was for him to say goodbye.

I am a seeker

I am a believer

I am a mystical

I am imperial

I am empirical

I am indiscerptible

I am indestructible

I am amiable

I am uncontainable

I am unrestrainable

I am love

I am all these things

But most of all

I am freedom

And I sore high

I reach the sky

And fly away

From all life suffering

On the wings of filigree

Just like an angel

I am divinity.

I haven’t written in so long. Written and edited something. I found an old poem in my journal the other day and I typed it up on google docs. It was funny, being able to feel my voice in my hands, a past self and the drive I had. Now I feel thick and dumb. Tractoring through life and homework and piles of shit just trying to get stuff done so I can fucking sleep. I have a glass of wine, two half-drunk cups of coffee, and a glass of water on the desk behind my computer. What an array of cups to wash at 2 am. Or leave in the sink. Or leave in my room until my bullet coffee grows small creatures.

Look, I’m at my grandmother’s house. It’s the Sunday before Thanksgiving. Monday if you count the late night ams. There is a pack of cigarettes in the kitchen that doesn’t belong to anyone. And I want one. But being the young person I am, I just quit my juul a month ago. Ah sobriety! How seriously I do not take you. Juuls am I right? Funny little flashdrives. It made walking up a hill a breathless chore. I could feel my heartbeat when I took a hit (not in a good way, like a I’m going to die at 30 of a heart attack kind of way.) But you know what I could also feel for a fleeting second? My fucking atoms man. Buzzing away. Singing sweet. And then a headache.

Wouldn’t it be nice, to finish this paper I’m working on for school, sit in the backyard and smoke just one? Fucking ideal. Good thing I’m too lazy to put on shoes, it’s 40 degrees outside and I’m a Californian that get’s frostbite when the weather goes below 50, so no nicotine for tonight. Maybe just sleep. Yeah. Homework can wait til tomorrow. It’s the holidays, it's time for a break.

Some nights I’m in awe of it all—

of this strange world I’m living in,

of how time passes,

of being alive.

Her eyes

Lips,lashes,

Waves of hair

Strike the vastness of the universe that lies within me:

A nebula of romanticism sparkles outwardly beyond sight

"Her" , is nameless

So that

If "Her"

Is merely a mirage of my mind

Then she is an infinity

Enlighten me.

"Her" is a vision, that illuminates my soul.

With a boot, each step is a tug to

Day and Night

Darkness and reinvention.

She lived once near

Now afar

Returning in instances to torture

To knot my chest

Turn my head every which way

And turn me from fertile soil

To mud

The bitterness that I hold is not mine

But "Hers"

May years do you well

Let the features which are cared for as a child is

remain.

A person so torn, and provoked

With a prickly exterior.

"Her", has: fallen, escaped, vanished, tarnished

A witch not

a forgotten pup not

Certainly a lost wanderer.

Stolen innocence

Will be substituted for love.

Obsession will be focused on passion

Stupidity(which is happiness) is ours

"Her" a beacon

Or an apple from which Eve plucked

i twirl

spin around

till I bump into

a frail, weary lookin’

silver~haired person

Papa quickly grabs

my hand & tells me

to look away

i pull my hand away

and give the person a

bag of cookies, ‘n’

blueberry muffins.

i wave to them with a

gleeful cheer, and smile

before I am lifted off the

ground and Papa takes

me home without ever

even looking at the

person who’s all alone.

#FollowChild’sLead

They say love is a friend, a warm feeling that warms you

but, isnt it the enemy?

Does it not give you hope, but than snatches it away, breaking you,

yes it comes with a warm feeling but when you begin to warm dosnt it stripe you of the warmth, leaving you bare with the dull darkness.

It will come with memories, but, dont those memories hunt you, mocking your naviety, leaving you on your knees, broken.

They say it make you stronger,

but, dosnt it also break you,

your self esteem,

your confidence,

making you question every choice,

question yourself,

your life, and the people around you.

It might be the friend thats there when your up,

but,

Its also the friend that stabs you in the back when your low on your knees.

11.17.18

I kissed her knuckles before she told me she never wanted to see me again. Stared at her as she woke up, sleepy and smiling with eyes closed before she slammed her car door shut in my face. There she is, green eyes and purple lipstick. There she is, screaming at me to go away. I kissed her dimples before she told me she never wanted to see me again, and I realize now that I could never make her stay.

He arrives

When the summer heat wanes

And red and orange hues

Paint the trees

And as the leaves fall

As do I

Descending, spiraling

Until I hit the ground

Hard enough to take my breath away

He leaves as quickly as he arrived

And I'm left in the

Bitter cold and brutal heat

Until he returns next time