for love’s rewards we stick our necks out
vulnerability a’pulse, blissful anticipation —
and love kisses our risk and nuzzles our napes
but after a time — short or long or in between —
we lose our heads to his swift sharp guillotine
our foolish blind hearts beat on nonetheless
and carry a torch right up to the inquest
emotions
Abrupt
When you’re used to seeing someone day after day, for years on end, and then suddenly they’re gone, you
Anew
Our bodies let go when it’s time to let go — it’s called death. We ought to let go of the little burdensome things each day — that’s called living.
Why we can’t let go
Regret is the glue that makes grief stick around for a lifetime.
Fragile
Grief is looking up
and seeing Never
at your window —
rapping on the pane
of your heart —
Depths
Grief is a haunted lake that’s all too easy to drown in.
Sound of winter leaves at night
Age is a foreign land I can’t get used to. I want to go back home.
Plexus
we feel poetry and art
in the sensitive veins
that run through soul and
carry not blood but spirit
№ Panic
Breathe in so much gratitude that there’s no room for fear.
Ease your sweet heart
Mother dear —
You worry about me
because I write sad poems —
But I promise you:
I am okay —
Writing purges my frustrations
and vents my steam
the pen is my psychiatrist
and ink my medicine —
When life feels off-balance
back to the writing board I go
I do not hide but seek
my emotions in words
and blot them on the paper
which blots it all out of my soul —
You see sad words, but to me
all my poems are happy
because creating them heals me —
Guaranteed, and believe me
because I love you so:
your daughter is just fine —
If ever I stop writing poems
that is when you should worry.
Grief mends
Grief is a burden
but also a friend—
It is not grief that
wounds your heart
but it is grief that
heals your heart.
Undoing
once you’ve forgiven yourself
do not un-forgive yourself on
each anniversary of the guilt
Stick with calm
Try not to worry, as it’s sticky and hard to scrub off.