I’ve Been Broken

How could I be so incredibly stupid…?

It’s amazing how the simplest things can shatter you to a million pieces so easily…


Unfortunately I Wrote a Crappy Poem

I’d really like to write a poem about you…

One of those ‘bleeding heart’ poems

One of those ‘make you feel something’ poems

Unfortunately I’m struggling to put how you make me feel into words


If I were to write a poem about you…

It’d have to be a hurtful poem

One of those ‘ouch’ poems

One of those ‘I’ve got a dagger protruding from my chest’ poems

Unfortunately I am not heartless enough to put someone through so much hurt


I kind of need to write a poem about you…

One of those ‘burn the world down’ poems

One of those ‘bitter, acid words’ poems

Unfortunately I can’t find angry enough words


I can’t write a poem about you because I want to write

One of those ‘I miss you’ poems

One of those ‘butterflies in my stomach’ poems

You don’t deserve that

Unfortunately I have just written a poem about you

Ode to My Aching heart

I’d like nothing more than to shout from the mountain tops how utterly upset and heart broken I am. But I cannot. Because what if he hears my shouts? How crushed will I feel when I realize that he not only doesn’t care how utterly upset and heartbroken I am, he couldn’t be any better? What will I say to those who ask me what’s wrong? There is nothing I can say that will make any sense. Nothing makes sense. Because I have no right to be upset… right? He wasn’t mine. It was all so temporary. But here’s what he doesn’t get. Here’s what no one gets. The littlest things are the biggest things. Those whispered compliments meant the word and he shouldn’t be allowed to take them back with a few simple words.  He is doing fine but my heart is breaking. What am I supposed to do? I want to shout and scream but I must remain mum as my heart shatters to pieces in my chest.

I Forgot

I forgot what it felt like to be liked. I forgot how it felt to wake up and think ‘he just might be thinking about me right now’ and praying he’d see me in the halls and say hi. I forgot how it felt to rush home and whip my laptop open to see if he’s attempted to contact me. I forgot about that light, bubbly feeling I got anytime he said something sweet. And it seems that in the brief period of time that  I had spent relieving these feelings I also forgot how it felt to not feel that way. I forgot how it felt to wake up and realizing that the only reason why I’m getting up is because I have to. I forgot what it felt like to stare at the screen and waiting for him to text, email, call. telegraph, something. I forgot how empty I felt when I realized that he wouldn’t text or call because he wasn’t thinking of me. I have now become reacquainted with these feelings. I forgot how much it hurt.

My First Muse -2

And he looked at me with those big, pools of chocolate in his cranium,  as I looked into his eyes I found myself falling into those pools of chocolate. And I knew that falling into those pools would be the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. I knew that once I fell, I’d be under his spell. But I let myself fall. And I just fell and fell and fell. But I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream. Because the sweet pain of falling was so much better than it seemed.

My First Muse -1

And when I saw them together I saw everyone else see them. And everyone else walked around getting hit in the head with pieces of the sky and acted as if nothing was happening. They passed the couple holding each other in a disgustingly cute romantic embrace and kept walking, kept laughing, kept living as if they didn’t notice the sky falling on top of them. As if the world as we knew it wasn’t crumbling. I noticed.

Everything Hurts

Everything Hurts

The tears that sting my eyes.

The fiery lump in my throat.

The quaking breaths that fill my lungs.

The cracking of my heart.

The constricting in my chest.

The emotion in my head.

But this is how I know I’m alive.

I’m missing you so I must be alive.

I’m hurting so I must be alive.

I’m dying so I must be alive.

Mrs. Not Me

Tell me about her.

Is she thin?

Is she tall?

Does she resemble me at all?


Does her laughter ring like a church bell?

Does she giggle like a school girl?

Does her laughter resemble mine?


Does her smile make people stop to admire?

Does it sparkle like the summer stars?

Does her smile resemble mine?


Tell me the color of her eyes.

Are they as black as mine?

What is the color of her hair?

Is it not as black as mine?


Tell me

What is it about her that makes her shine?

What makes her so divine?

Does her heart not beat as mine?


Tell me

What is it about her?

Tell me

What does she have that I do not?

Tell me

Why does she have your heart?