when we were us
A small compilation
...
I hate / love life. Why is it so utterly complicated and interesting and beautiful and tragic? It’s like I just miss this person so much yet I also want to move on and move forward and the beauty in being able to make that decision and feel emotions in regards to it all. It’s so deep and heart wrenching, but magical and supernatural. And I’m so enthralled by it and grateful that I feel so deeply and love so openly and can choose to feel such strong love that overtakes me at times. But there’s also a deep frustration in the fact that sometimes there is no choice and sometimes it’s just a horrible feeling that overtakes my being and that hurts, more than anything physical.
...
Or maybe I’m pretending. Do you think I
Am?
You know me more than I know myself. You
Know. Don’t you? Please
Help me.
You’ve always helped me. I need
Help. And now you’re not here
To let me know if I’m doing something wrong
And I need that. I need you still. Do
You know that? Do you think of me?
...
When we were us, I saw him as perfect. Yes, I still observed his [imperfections], yet I still saw him as the most beautiful creation because of what he brought to me. What he brought to my life!
He made life beautiful; therefore, he was beautiful.
...
1/13/26
A boy drives fast
on the open road.
Prairie and rolling hills on either side of him as he
winds around corners with surprising accuracy.
His long, dark hair shoots out behind his face
as the wind rushes through the open-top car.
Turning down another wind in the road,
this time slowly,
he collides
with a heart.
It gushes open, red
and radiant against the moonlight in the
Graveyard.
Soon, as the boy takes the heart into his tentative hands,
he shifts.
His face takes its shape from adolescence to adult,
his body becomes firmer and bigger,
his stance is now secure.
One might even say, “he grew up.”
Now, he walks along the road,
for he doesn’t rely on material things to give an air of dominance.
He is just as he should be.
He walks along the road with the beating heart in his hands
and although he is still on a journey,
a long journey,
he will
always have the heart with him because
that’s where it belongs.
...
8/30/26
Beneath my clothes lies
My barren heart
And mind
And body
And soul
And I’m tired and I’m
Tired
I miss those days of laze
And wonder
No more
I wait for it
To maybe some day
Grace me with its presence
But await
I shall for its residence
Hinders my existence