A Series of Observations

Category: Letters to a Dying Flame

  • I Loved You But You Wouldn’t Let Me.

    If you didn’t feel loved by me, my love I wouldn’t be surprised. When was I ever given permission to? My touch was met with your absence. The wrong time, wrong way, or too much. My gifts with their thoughtfulness were slowly accepted, insisting I never spent my money on you. I cooked meals filled…

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  • No Longer Who I Used To Be

    Snow falls, days grow colder, and I am no longer who I used to be. The world goes to sleep and dreams of the brighter days ahead, of all the promises that future could hold. When I dream my future holds those same promises, I collect those whispers of what will come. In this time…

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  • I Never Said Thank You.

    All the ways you were, helped me to become all the ways I am. This feeling runs deep, and now I see such synchronicities.  Your smile that lifted mine without fail, your supportive shoulders I used time and time again, and your kind and thoughtful hands. The love you gave intentionally to others to heal instead of…

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  • You Are No Saint

    You are no saint to me; you are just a man. My glasses of rose, crushed at my feet, you’ll never be again what you were to me. You are no saint to me, you liar, you cheat, you thief. My hands you once held, now clenched into fists, will never reach for you again.…

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  • What is a Year?

    What is a year but 365 days of opportunity. 365 moments to love you, to know you, to want you. What is a year but 365 days of torture. 365 moments to miss you, to hate you, to want you still. It would’ve been a year at the beginning of November. I can’t help but…

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  • The Only Place That’s Mine

    My bedroom has always been a sacred space. The only place that’s mine. You were the first man I ever let inside, the first I told I loved. All in those four comforting walls. My bedroom is my heart, with blank white walls that reflect the ending days colors, waiting for memories to be hung…

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  • Conversations with Your Ghost

    There are days when I know that I had more to say to you, in the end. I lay in bed at night and hear the silence whisper my name in your voice. I try to tell myself that I am alright. Maybe this is just how it has to be, this is what I…

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  • Was There Anything Left of Me After?

    Was there anything left of me after your mind picked me apart? Level by level, leaving no piece of me sacred or safe. Did it start to tear away my clothes, your desire for me gone? Past the way I laughed and the touch of my skin. Down further to the kind of books I…

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  • Is Love Mindless or Intentional?

    Do the scientists know, is love mindless or intentional? Have they decided for us how it is all done? Have they poked and prodded the right people, with the right minds to know for sure? Have they looked at my heart? Did it tell them exactly who it wanted? How can you find something if…

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  • The Thing About Tomorrow’s

    Here’s the thing about tomorrow’s, it’s all fucking fiction. No one knows what’ll happen an hour from now, let alone a day that doesn’t exist.  Time in general is the same, so how could we ever bear to waste it? So much energy is given to realities that may never come to pass and we…

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