Making Space for Uncertainty

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Three years ago, my boyfriend of 4.5 months broke up with me.  And so it was a process of untangling our lives and letting go.

After a couple of weeks of not talking to him and crying a lot, the crying stopped and I slipped back into talking, texting with him.

A lot.

Continue reading “Making Space for Uncertainty”

you

just writing your name
I start to cry
alone
in the restaurant

this joyful
beautiful man
plucked from my life

quickly
effortlessly
the bandaid ripped off.

I want to love him more
I want to save him from himself

I want us to be free birds together

the bandaid is ripped off
and the sting
remains

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate to the Young Adult Program CLICK HERE.

remember that day in the park

when I met you
sitting ackwardly
on the grass
chasing the sunshine

remember that day in the park
where we first kissed
warm
under the blanket
and we both went home alone

remember that day in the park
hobbling with cane
black eye
street meat and kisses for dinner

remember that day in the park
where you left me
us both yelling and crying
peeling apart our tangled lives

being a creature of this earth

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breathe

feel your body
back against the chair
feet on the floor
breathe

anger
courses through my veins

sadness
overcomes my body

breathe.

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate to the Young Adult Program CLICK HERE!

Love to the real mountain

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Where is it?
Where am I?
And when
can I take
a nap??

When I dream
I find the real mountain
hidden
in a cave.

I climb
ascending to new heights
I climb
finding freedom
I climb
and there is love
on the real mountain.

To learn more about my 108 Poetry Challenge or to donate to the Young Adult Program click here.

And I can still love him…

Even as I step away from the possibility of romance
Turning away from the manipulations

Step out

Drawing my strength forward
Step out

And I can still feel desperate
Still need
Still cling

And I can cling to hope
for a simpler life
And consider falling in love with the man with the British accent on the subway
And cling to hope
to someday date a grown up who is inspired by the beauty of simple living

And choose not to date the tennis photographer
who reminds me of Pierre

And I can still cling
to hope.