I think the greats knew this secret — that to write one needs space and silence and a place to think.
You are not the darkness that you think you are
Do you miss me?
like you miss an old pair of jeans
the one you still keep nonetheless
once a favorite
now a misfit.
I’ll tell you that I know better things are coming
I’ll tell you that I don’t want to be pitied just because I hurt
A wandering, lonely body in search for another.
I never say your name out loud.
I packaged up my feelings for you in a cardboard box.
at the ceiling,
I think of you.
I bring passion
into places where there is none. I turn flickers
So, this is for the hearts like mine, don’t you dare apologize for still beating. May your joy never be lost for too long. May you never forget the glow inside your veins.
When did my freckles turn from your favorite constellations to a road map that no longer brought you home?