Tag Archives: loss

The Light Flickers

Don’t forget to tell me good-bye when the time’s right. Don’t forget to hold the door open and watch me leave. Don’t forget to keep that smile on your face and, please, don’t forget to dream about me every night after.

When the next one whispers how much they love you when they think you’re sleeping, don’t forget to hold your breath and pray they don’t know you’re awake. Don’t forget to distance yourself and stop answering the phone. Don’t forget what those words sounded like when they came from my lips.

Down the road when you hold the-one in your arms and look at their sleeping face, don’t forget to picture mine. Don’t forget the feeling in your arms as they ache to hold me instead.

When things stop working and they leave you, don’t forget about the way you left me. Don’t forget the sway of my hips, or my tensed jaw.

Don’t forget me.

Don’t forget.


Just another tragic love story.

The sinkhole of my mouth,
the tragic words I whisper
when his eyes close for the night.

I never tell him I feel like lost tupperware
hidden somewhere on the top shelf,
in the very back.

When the connection feels lost and
somewhere along the lines
he could no longer feel me,

it’s heartbreaking to say my fingertips
still remember the skin of his back
when he lied down facing away from me.

He said I stopped looking at him
the same, but his image is still burned
into the back of my head,

and I will think of him every night
he no longer sleeps beside me,
and I will feel the lack of his presence

every time the bed doesn’t dip
from his weight. He said he no longer
knew if I loved him.

I will carry the weight of my failure,
of the love I never learned to express,
and the burden of my closed lips.

Wanting for Summer

My skin feels like a lonely place
without your fingers on it
and ghosts run rampant
through my veins
as though I am a haunted house

I don’t know how I got to be
so cold without you
as though you were all the fire
in my blood, in my bones,
in my soul

I remember being whole before
your lips ever touched me,
and you seemed to have taken parts
of me every time your skin grazed mine

The shell of me has frosted over
with time missing you,
and I miss being whole,
and I miss being me without


You made me catch my breath the minute you made the world stop turning.
It could’ve been the way the wind was blowing, or maybe the suns position, or the moons.
Or it could’ve been your eyes, your smile, the way your hands were easily
slipped into your pockets.

I was made into glass the moment your hands touched my skin,
and I was terrified of breaking. Your lips told me you knew how I was fragile,
you knew how I was something different whenever you were there.

Still the way you smiled at me and the feelings structured in your face
made me think maybe I was made out of something more –
something stronger. I felt malleable when your breath ghosted over me.

I was left in shards when your clothes left our closet. I was made into dust
when your shoes were no longer by the door.
I was made a shell the moment your took your love from my hands
like it was never mine to begin with.

There are more than just cracks in my foundation, and some days
I could swear an atomic bomb went off in my bones. I’m reeling,
spinning, falling and crashing, down somewhere I didn’t know even existed.

Some days the sky feels like it’s falling and the warmest thing around me
is the dirt under our dead grass. Yet the worst sin in my blood, the one thing
I could never stop, is the love I could never hate you with. The love I could never let die.


When I’m lost in thoughts of you, I wonder if I’m anywhere in your head, too.

Do you remember my lips when your eyes have barely shut at the end of the day? Or my hands outlining the ink on your skin?

There are instances that flash in my head, like a movie I’ve only seen once, and I’m stuck knowing these parts of you that linger in my mind are shared with someone else. Your crinkled eyes from that wide smile is stuck in my head, and I know it won’t be for me again.
All I can wonder is if any of me stuck somewhere with you, too.

lost reverie

Sometimes, you still enter my dreams through a backdoor.
I could swear we’re done, and I’m over it, over you.
But you’re still there and I still have to feel it.
Over and over like constant prods with a needle, but with enough time and effort, and just one good push;
you’re there. And I’m bleeding.
My heart isn’t the only thing that’s red.

Seven Months

She lost herself somewhere when she lost him.

Hers knees scratched from falling, her eyes red from the culmination.

It was a devastation how the world seemed to go unphased when she felt her heart crumble every time it contracted in her chest. All she could remember was the happiness that she had lost, and time and time again she looked for it where she had lost it.

His arms opened, but his heart remained closed and every time her lips found his again, she hoped it would convince him to let her back in; but it never did.

Aches and pains were all she found when there was nothing more than empty touches and halfhearted kisses. That awful reminder of her lost happiness reminded her of what she had, so still she tried and tried and tried to find it in the place it was lost. Still she was without.

She forgot what it was like before him, and without him seemed unbearable. Her heart cradled itself in the memories but the bruises never healed and there was no sign of being stitched up.

The worst part was that she couldn’t seem to free herself from the burden she was placing on herself, and his half-acceptance was too much to give up. So she held on.

The thing about holding onto something that isn’t really there, is that you’re not really holding on at all. Her fingers tried to grasp what wasn’t there and she had nothing to hold onto. Enough time of free-falling and it still took his real exit for her to catch herself. He would never be at the bottom for her, so she had to be her own knight.

Her chest as heavy as bricks, she put bandages on her knees, she wiped her eyes, and somehow she left him sitting on the edge of her bed while she let it burn.

The smoke left marks on the walls and the smell continues to stay, but it fades slowly – and it will be gone eventually.

It hurts, but it’s getting better. It doesn’t hurt to smile anymore and for that she is bitterly thankful.

She just wished she knew at the beginning of the end to not look for happiness where she lost it.

Because it can’t be found there.