It’s been a while…

It’s been a while since I have been here.

Not for lack of needing it.

Because it’s hard to make time for it anymore.

There is so much going on right now.

Wedding planning.


Dissertation work… writing isn’t fun when it’s forced.

The hustle and bustle of life sometimes helps me forget.

Then an attack slaps me back to reality. Like when you let go of a rubber band.




I am not a doormat.

I am not replaceable.

Nor expendable.

Be careful.

No one in this fucking world will love you as

fast, as

hard, as

I do.

I am not some silly toy for you to

take off a shelf, play with

and leave to get dusty.

I will not be convenient for you.


It Counts (RP)

I count on you

to understand.

To make promises and

keep them.

I believe in you

despite it all.

There are times when

I need you.

When I need dedication

to go both ways.

I only take what

I give.

I only ask for

what you receive.

Reciprocity is not just

a notion.


I have studied it.

Know it.

Acknowledge it.


It counts.


Pointless (RP)

Dancing, playing, fucking

Life is a joke for you.

Snarling, writhing, vomiting

Being a rebel never felt so good.

Bleeding, acting, snapping

Your childish games have to end sometime.

Believing, relishing, committing

Choke on my name when you speak it.

Barking, chasing, judging

I wouldn’t breathe life into you.

Smiling, spewing, yearning

Be the captain of your own fucking ship.


Letting go…

It’s the f’ing hardest thing to do.

I get it.

I struggle with it.

I still expect things of people. I still hope for things for people.

It’s 2 a.m. and I am laying awake worried about a situation that isn’t even my own.

It’s 3 a.m. and I am laying awake wondering where I went wrong.

It’s 4 a.m. and I am laying awake wondering what I could have done differently.

I had to go away.

I had to grow.

I start to make connections. It happened to me. You had to go away. You had to grow.

It’s different though. In some way.

Somehow it’s always different.

You’re different now.

We’re disconnected.

My heart is fucking broken and I don’t believe you care.

I am afraid for you. For that flicker.

You don’t know how much you’re worth.

I can’t convince you.

I don’t even know if you need me anymore.

I don’t know if I can do it anymore.

Be a doormat.

Be convenient.

Be something to discard when you’re done with me.

I want to be a part of your life, not just serve a purpose.

Someday I won’t be here anymore.