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Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Optimism, cut and dried, hanging from the ceiling rafters
sheds its scent as it shakes in the strength of ringing laughter.
This is what my ribcage was, a fountain bright and ocean clear-
the world has given much to me, but taken more than that, I fear.
I feel them still, the shadows of the peace that once I took for granted-
with patience and hard work I know I'll find again that place enchanted.

Sunday, November 9, 2014


The moon shrugs her shoulders
and sheds light from her skin (oh
unspeakable act of rebellion
that they say that it is)- but never
does she abandon her throne, only
closes her crescent luminescent eyes
and sleeps.

Saturday, September 20, 2014


You are one half of six
sugar-spun years of

I remember [us
rolling in the snow] wanting
to call [us walking down
the road] you on the phone
and [us talking late at night] how
difficult it was to imagine [us eating,
laughing] your tone
through the texts.

I remember (vividly)
the feeling of [waiting for your
letter in the mail] bone-deep
sadness before [rushing to write back]
leaving for two weeks, holding [the care
packages we exchanged] on to
a small, doubtful hope
that [you visiting me, me visiting
you] when I returned it
would all be [finishing
the second scrapbook
for you, proud] over.

After those
last long months, it was hard to
remember you [weeping to my brother
on the phone] without [fighting
tears in my office at work] feeling
like [sobbing under the covers
at night] crying.

These days
it's still hard,
but I'm
remembering [learning]
how to [how to forgive]
forget and [you] let

Sunday, February 23, 2014

troubled water

You can't spell 'damage' without 'dam', the kind we build
to hold back water and ourselves,
which is interesting when you think
that symbolically speaking (in terms of dreaming,
at least) water represents our emotions.
In my dreams I have fought wars 
underwater but mostly there is snow, and
I thought you might like to know that this means I am
damaged too, we are all damaged. We have been taught
that growing up is learning to suppress
and to accept disappointment,
which can't be spelled without 'point' and sometimes
I can feel that too, a bitter edge twisting in my chest.
A perfect example- my colleague wanted so badly
to give someone a second chance,
he truly believed that as time progressed
they would meet his expectations. I stood by
and observed as the inevitable happened- I 
saw the hope die in his eyes, I saw that dying light
crushed beneath hard heels like so much dirt. 
I saw his expression and it hurt us both, that
sharp disappointment.
What's harder to learn about growing up is that
we can't stop,
we must keep going; and although we are
building up our dams we are just as capable
of building bridges. It takes time, but maybe
someone else is also beginning on their bridge,
and reaching out is difficult but
work goes faster when you have a team.
Asking for help doesn't make you weak-
it makes you human, and I thought that you should know
that I'm here, I'm also human.
My bridge is marble: heavy to carry, but when it's complete
won't it be beautiful to see.