poet to poet

You have been here to try and keep me sane-
Whatever sanity I still have left, anyway.
Right when I want to go insane,
You tell me, save it, for better days.

You let me lose my crazy mind
Only so that I can find it, one more time.
You tell me to think things through
Before I let my emotions stick like glue.

You keep me with my feet on the ground
While helping me rise up higher than I thought.
You brush my doubts away with a blown kiss
Like they are leaves, lost in a breeze.

You tell me to breathe, making me feel at ease;
It’s like I can feel my mind- finally settling down.
You tell me to let out all that’s in my beating heart;
And you pick up my broken pieces, working to put them back.

This isn’t a love poem-
And yet, 
It is.


@teacup13…because a mere thank you, just would not do.

In the dream, we are strangers knee to knee on a train. It’s the most we ever touch. I still write about you. I still end up here. There is something to be said for a love that refuses to melt. A love stored in the freezer, in a ziplock bag. Stashed behind the ice cube tray. Always waiting to be pulled out. Willing to thaw, to forgive like spring, to pick up right where it left off. You, cradling a phone in the crook of your arm. Me, crying about produce. You call, and I answer. You say, “Do you know what an air traffic control room looks like? All those switches and buttons blinking? When I hear your voice, everything lights up all at once for me. Nobody else does that.” I don’t say anything eloquent. So we’re back on the train, with the knees, only this time you’re looking me in the face and I’m staring out the window. What do you think happens when love gets left out too long?
—  Trista Mateer
It’s hard to convince myself I don’t need someone by my side anymore.
For 5 months of my life I had you, to talk to, to love, to be loved by.
You consumed so much of me, took over so much of my life and without you so much was taken.
Your words were taken. Your body. Car rides curled into your side. Sleeping in your arms. Talking until late at night. Seeing each other in the morning. Getting into trouble together. Summer nights with all of our friends. Loving together.
The absence of you in a sense was the absence of me. You took pieces of my life that I thought had been set in stone.
But it was all temporary, you were temporary.
—  v.m
It took me a while to discover that people don’t exist in the ways we think they do. No one ever falls apart completely: sadness is never absolute, it just dissolves you bit by bit.
In January you stopped learning Latin.
In February you started crying in the shower.
In March you jumped off a bridge.
Parts of you went missing, day by day, month by month. I tossed every last fragment of my life aside, searching for something left of you in my house. I didn’t find what I was looking for until I pushed myself into a burning hot shower. I wanted to feel the way you felt. I wanted to hurt the way you hurt. The mirror steamed up in a fleeting second, and all that remained of you hung in the air.
Yesterday, after crying, I assume, you had traced your legacy onto glass: ‘mors certa, hora incerta’.
In April I looked it up.
'LATIN. 'Mors certa, hora incerta’- 'death is certain, the hour is not.’
—  #174- excerpts from the book I’ll never write
tell me how it feels
to be broken
because every scar
is different
and I want to know
how yours have healed.
—  Shelby Leigh
How long can I hold on?
When you look towards the sun for too long you can’t see anything else. I guess I looked at you like you were the only thing keeping me warm and I’ve been cold since you left. When you look towards the moon for too long the world lose sense. I guess I looked at you like you were the only light into my dark sky and I’ve been blind since you left.
How long can I hold on without my sun and my moon?
—  k.m
I was happy and I wanted to keep that happiness for as long as I could. I suppose I held on too tight and that was why everything shattered in the palm of my hand.
—  C.H. // Inevitability of Change
You’ll eventually understand why every choice you made in life was the right choice because every path you took lead you to this moment. And you are now and always forever broken, forever becoming, and forever changed.
—  Juansen Dizon // The Butterfly Effect 
I feel blue but not the blue of sadness. More like the feeling when you look up at the sky and you see it so bright and you know it’s going to be a good day.
—  giulswrites
These last few days have been difficult and I’ve wanted so much to contact you… I haven’t of course because I know that I can’t, but that old familiar feeling is there and I’ve had to fight so hard not to give in to it.
I suppose it’s only natural in times like these… when the ground feels like it’s crumbling under my feet it makes sense that all I want to do is run back to the last solid stable thing I can remember. There’s so much going on and so much going wrong … and as always you’re the only one I want to turn to.
But I remind myself that it’s not an option anymore, no matter how difficult life gets. You are no longer a part of my life, so no matter how frightened I am or much it feels like the whole world is crumbling away beneath my feet – I cannot run to you.
You are no longer my safe place, my confidant or my salvation…
I must learn to stand on my own two feet again
—  Ranata Suzuki | I stand alone

I still miss you but it’s not the same anymore. I won’t call and I refuse to let my hands reach out for you because I have learned the hard way that you are not a place I can rest upon. You were never a safe place for me to reside in and there was nothing sacred about the way you disarmed me if it was only for your convenience. I became soft for you. I lost my fear of stepping out into the open and I did it for you. I never should have. I should have retrieved my heart on the day where all the casualties began to pile up on my side of the battlefield. And even then, in the death of everything good that I used to be, I still found ways to love you. Maybe they weren’t always good. But I did my best. Even from here, years after the soil has forgotten all the blood I spilled there, I am still loving you in the only way I know how- with my hands at my side, a phone call log that doesn’t remember your phone number and a heart that still loves you but has grown too tired to try to make a home amidst your war zone.