change.

Sometimes, I want to give Change 
The sloppiest wettest kiss 
known to man.

On occasion I want to 
Step back, let him work 
His magic  and see what 
He'll bring me.

Today I'm wishing I 
could run like hell 
Away from him and 
Slip back into the solace 
Of  youth that
I so dearly miss.

these tears.

These tears are not my own.
They are yours.
They are parts of you .
With every word you’ve ever said to me
Every text you’ve ever written
Every smile you’ve offered
And every feeling you’ve given to me,
which discretely hitch-hiked
into my heart unseen,
you’ve given me a part of you.
You have been
Flowing through my veins undetected.
And now these tears are leaving.
Escaping from my heart
Through my eyes,
falling away.
you’re falling away from me.

Those parts are emptying
My body and contorting my heart
As it tightens in pain.
My heart is struggling to adapt to
those vacant places.
My body doesn’t know
how to answer to these
Empty spaces.

These tears are yours,
Please take them.
They’ve created a river
Too powerful to stay above water
Because it’s deep and I can’t swim.
It’s engulfing me.
It’s drowning me.
Take these tears from me.


Please take these tears
that soaked my pillow last night.

But you won’t.
You’ll want to,
You’ll say you will.
But you can’t.
You’re just going to have to watch me break.

Years later, a dam will malfunction
and the tears will cascade out of my eyes
I’ll recognize your face in their reflection.
And I’ll wonder what would have
happened if I had only learned how to swim

XVII (I do not love you...)

by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

(please note, I did NOT write this poem. I simply loved it.)