Chris Isaak Was Right. a haiku:
This world is only
Going to break both our hearts.
What a wicked game.

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@justsomechap
Chris Isaak Was Right. a haiku:
This world is only
Going to break both our hearts.
What a wicked game.
— josé olivarez // natalie diaz
Trista Mateer, from a poem featured in her collection titled The Dogs I Have Kissed
“I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. And sometimes, when I did a really good job of pretending, I even fooled myself.”
— Ruta Sepetys, Salt to the Sea
I wrote more and more,
A million words
So our goodbye wouldn’t end.
Thank you from my core
For simply
Laying down the pen.
“If I don’t love me at my worst I don’t deserve me at my best” is my excuse not to seek to improve.
i said i’d stop, i meant to try, but every day loops back again a wound i kiss instead of clean. the sky won’t weep, it only dries, it holds its ache like inkless pen, and hides the wreck behind the sheen.
A thousand dreams, a hundred fears, Too late for love, too soon for loss: There’s no magic in unspoken words.
I bite my tongue and wish for speech, Failing language I’m failing you; Losing answers I’m finding peace.
From then to now and back again; Falling I wish for you before wings No longer afraid of a better world —
Reaching I’m holding the learning of tears, Nothing’s too late if it never was — If dreams comes true we’ll start anew.
A flash of warmth within my cheeks That waves “hello!” so quaintly greet… This beacon from which good embarks To shine throughout the dark: You are so bright. I wince; this sunlit merriment Spurs squints but hints encouragement. Now blinded, I suspect much more: I’ve never seen before. You are so bright.
If you’re the deep end And I don’t know how to swim, You know I’ll jump in.
you were never mine to lose, but god, didn’t i mourn you like a grave i dug myself.
I mourn anew every single day. I refeel the gut-wrenching loss over and over and over.
Baloney again
I could eat my own heart out
All this organ meat
You fed me while I was starving
Someone else ate your prime rib
“Stab me in the heart.
Again and again. AGAIN,”
My reflection urged.
Holding onto hope
I await a lost message
That will never come
our tears bleed
as lost hearts sing
to dead stars.
—RTG