They say
I’ll break
his heart
and it
my heart
to think
they know
so little of
the way this
always works.

It’s me
who always
ends up with
a broken heart
but it’s always me
who is willing to
hand it over
once again
on the chance
that this time
it will heal.


Complete Failure

I’m a complete failure.

The more understanding
portion of the world is
always telling you to
give yourself a break.
That you are doing
the best that you can.

And that may be true
for some, or even most.
But it is not true of me.

I’m a complete failure.

I fail where many succeed
because I am always running
away from my troubles
instead of facing them.

I avoid conflict
as well as any
opportunity for
forward motion
in exchange for
crippling fear
and self doubt.

I’m a complete failure.

And the funniest part
of it all is that I don’t
really know why.

Or rather, I do
but do not do
anything to
change my

I am afraid.

I am

I am afraid
of everything.

Most of all
I am afraid
of who I
would be
if I weren’t
always afraid.

Of who I would be
if I were not a
complete failure.


Accidental Date

When he says
we have to stop
running into
each other
like this for
the third time
in two days
it doesn’t
hold the
same weight.

But then it leads to
accidental dates
and all of a sudden
opens the door
for another
whatever this is.

And he walks
you home when
he doesn’t have
to because why
would he and
anyway you
live around
the corner
except then a
goodbye hug
turns into a
goodnight kiss
and you can
feel your lips
burning right
up until the
moment you
fall asleep.

Accidental dates
that turn into
arms wrapped
around waists
and the thought
of so many more
just like this.



The nurse said,
“We’ll call it fatigue,”
as she made a
in my chart.

Yes, it’s true.
I am fatigued.
By her.
By myself.
By the world
and all the
things it
throws at me.

All I had the
strength to do
was smirk.

So, yes.
We’ll call it

Because, yes.
I am tired.
Of her.
Of myself.
Of the world
and all the
things it
takes from me.
Only made it two years this time. I’m slacking. Better living through pharmacology, here I come.


Hold the Door

I had to
hold the door.

This is what
it feels like
to tear
yourself apart.

Did I want to
run to you?
I did.

Whether to
slap you or
to kiss you
I don’t yet know.

So I had to
hold the door.

To stop myself
from turning away
and slamming it
in your face.

You were standing
there so petrified.

Do I take your
breath away or
are you just
taking your time?

I had to
hold the door.

And you walked
through it and
away from me
and it wasn’t
until you’d gone
that I realized
I’d forgotten
to watch you
walk away.

Did you
look back
hoping I
would still
be standing
there holding
the door or
did you just
let it slam
behind you?


Point Zero

There is
that I want.

You are not
the one
to give it
to me.

How I wish
that I were weak.

That I could pretend
you were a better man

or I
a more
deserving woman.

You aren’t.
I’m not.

I want.
But we won’t.
S/O to every person out there who isn’t the person for me.