A Moment Shared

our eyes say the words our lips cannot speak

and no one else can hear.

we tear out the pages of our lives

replacing them with new chapters

of you and me, imagining what might have been.

if choices were reversible, but

the last note plays the spotlights on us fade

and reality…

it returns to the foreground.

(co)dependent

when we were young and together you spoke about the size of your heart. how you love too hard
i felt bad i didn’t love you in the same measure

now that we are older and apart, i realize you were flattering yourself
does love hold grudges. does it hate.
does it speak lies with just enough truth to sound right.

some of the lies vanished from my memory that night, snuffed out by grace. others i chose not to read because i already didn’t trust you. but even still…hurt begets hurt, hate begets hate, and i have tasted both in some measure. the sweet venom the silent rage the subtle but sure hardening of the heart

now that we are older than the years that have passed, i realize your love was diluted with blood.
still seeping from old and deep wounds,

and I understand.

words

what your words lacked in wisdom and love
they made up for in arrogance and presumption.

sometimes words say more about the person speaking.

two digits

there is a number that follows us our whole lives and every year it’s different. one to two digits and maybe three. it feels personal. it feels like ours. and as the number gets bigger it becomes less good, and then bad, and it usually happens around the time our number stops matching our expectations. why do we let something so trivial characterize us? as if we’ve succeeded or failed based on the milestones we’ve hit, the societal norms we’ve checked off, by a certain number. we are words incarnate and our lives tell the most beautiful stories, but we let a number define us? two digits compared to the novel of our lives. it only has the power we give it

until I remember

talking with you
has been relegated
to my dreams.
I wake up in
a better mood
until I remember

Nola

you shared your secrets with me

the music of your soul

the taste of your keep

show me a picture

of our time together

and i’ll know it wasn’t a dream

heart over head

some things cant be figured out by thinking, i’m overthinking
some things need to be lived and done, moments experienced as they come
without comparison or looking around
with a raised head, feet on the ground

these moments are mine and better shared
so i’m done giving them up and living them with
half a heart because my mind is elsewhere