Archives for category: poetry

if i could give up expecting,
i’d know what hope really is
and probably love, too.

to give up pushing and trying, i think,
must be quite beautiful–
i’m sure i’m right.

if i could take him as he is,
the love i feel in my gut
wouldn’t feel like transgression–

it’d be calling out rather than a calling in,
and i’d feel less of myself in everything–
the world could just be.

perhaps i’d learn to stop wishing on everything–even
light-struck dust particles–that he’d learn to love me.



she is not hungry
because she lives off the Spirit–
she never puts on weight and
never has to wait for what’s real to settle

she tastes it now–sweet and sticky and heavy

with no consequent, added inches–
with nothing extra–
she is content to taste and be unsatisfied–
to diminish her soul
and tease her body


i’m a scratch
a hard laugh
that cracked at the top
and everyone looked
and thought, Wow. Was it really so funny?

because it wasn’t
they all misheard
that wasn’t a laugh at all

it was the sound of failure
and loss
and being lost
never found
at least, never soon enough

i’m a burn
a good cry
that grew legs and arms
and clawed and ran through the middle of the body
no one looked to see her walk away
because it was loud, crowded, and hot
and there were smiles and touches and clinking glasses

because the bathroom was more inviting
because that’s where the best cries happen

she didn’t make a wail that could be heard
the quiet was wide and tall and deep
it was a whispered whimper
that whimpered for what is lost
and for being lost
for never being found
at least, never soon enough


how do I tell myself a thing and mean it?
how do I say the truth fearlessly
so that the foolish hopefulness inside of me evacuates?
I might be free,
if only my maybe dreams would go