When you choose to become a parent, you are committing yourself to a lifetime of sacrifices that no one else will ever know about, these are your gifts to keep and you take them to the grave. 

just this dribble

I’ve missed too many sunsets and too many sunrises, trying to make ends meet. 

After sitting down with my mentor and boss, I might be able to get back to digging in deeper into the career path I’ve chosen, and at some point resign from my second job. It’s been necessary but the lack of sleep and loss of motivation creeping in, is weighing in heavily.

If only I could write well enough. There are so many stories, so many unbelievable and shocking truths, many dream-like adventures to share, lots of overwhelming beauty, all-consuming joys and deep wells of sadness. 

Sadly no, there’s just this dribble from a very buzzed and very tired girl.

I had been feeling it for days…

I think I knew, secretly yes, I think I just kept wanting to believe that it was indeed mutual and a mirror of my affection, but I felt withdrawal. I gave the space they begged silently for and stood-by and watched the vacancy of their presence and their words and waning lack of observation, perhaps deliberate - perhaps not, but the frequency of ignoring things previously never missed was staring at me from the shadows in the dark. I swallowed explanations and excuses like chasers, I was choking.

I hate that my heart has the strength and power to silence my mind from truth. Why is my heart so selfish, so stubbornly fragile and always choosing to love people that don’t love back. 

At my core I am just a silly neurotic passionate romantic little girl still learning life lessons again and again and again. It’s draining, my chest gets heavy, I can’t breathe and the corners of my eyes  pool with tears. I wanted to believe otherwise but the ‘but’ reveals truths. The head knows, that the heart and soul will feel too deeply. 

At the heart of grief there lies a melancholic danger, I prefer the danger of hope, it’s kiss; and a far sweeter bed of death.

Your shadow embraces me 

and it feels like home in your darkness.

flushed and feral

their presence 

their energy

vibrating through 

your body,

touching every 

inch of you.

you’re alive,

your skin

tingling,

just aching 

for their 

eyes on you,

their smell; 

the ecstasy and 

slow agony of 

their lips

their hands

the weight 

of their body

pressed perfectly 

against

and into 

yours,

craving 

the sweet tenderness

of their sensuality

and sexual

violence and 

vigor,

enthusiasm 

and passion,

the anticipation

rushing through 

your blood;

your body 

humming 

and

trembling 

he’s made

you

all

flushed and 

feral 

Shadows collecting shadows 

scurrying to be hidden from the rising sun

Dear ghost

A ghost to love

A ghost that is a dream, long forgotten 

A ghost that made me feel all the music in my soul

A ghost that opened my heart

And let my emotions flow

A ghost that came tumbling in 

And I sat with this ghost 

My hand and mind open

And he haunted me with soul kisses

And parts of me I didn’t know I needed were beautifully, softly led 

To the parts of him that washed me clean

A ghost to heal

A ghost I knew I could surrender everything to 

And suddenly all the music I heard was about him, this ghost 

This ghost that appeared to me in the middle of a storm

And became a beacon of light 

The waves of emotions

The ghost of love

Nice to meet you, dear ghost

You’re like a crime scene.

Forever carrying brass knuckles in the pockets of your jeans, because you never know if those ghosts with heartbeats will come back.