My internal conflict

Lies between the sheets of our bed

I am incapable of two things

Writing my words

And sleeping alone

Where does your head rest

Amongst this mess?


My mother is an artist

My mother is an artist

So growing up

Our walls were hand coated

With a million strokes of memories

The paint that spilled from laughing too hard

The quote that was almost misspelled

The flower that was painted over

When my head aged faster than my heart

Now bare walls give me anxiety

I am surrounded by blank canvases

The expansive nothingness

Makes this room feel like a chokehold

Each poster is like a bandaid

When what I need is fresh skin

A new view

A new vision

A new thought

A new breath of life

Painted on with warmth

And even coats of hope

But these walls are forever empty

The brushes meant

For every detailed design

Are just out of reach

Flying home to you

I used to fight sleep on every plane ride

As if closing my eyes for a split second

Meant that I would miss

The most important part

At night

When the building lights flickered

The whole world seemed upside down

But there wasn’t a single star in the sky

That could match the bright lights below

The constellations on the ground

Were made up of so much more

Than a comet’s wish

They pointed to a direction

So close, yet so far

From a thousand feet up

Every town was free of clouded judgement

The price of their utopia

Was my tainted view

But I could afford it

For the glimmer of hope in each home

The very last thought I can have of you

I could write a million words to say goodbye to you and the piece you took would always be a larger hole than anyone could fill. And who’s fault is that? Is it mine? Is it yours? When do I get to let you go and watch you float away to a world I don’t belong to? Or will your world always be a part of mine? If I write you one more letter, will you finally respond?


The endless stars were ours for the taking

But the sun had the nerve to rise

The clouds felt the need to take their place

And we dared to hold our days

Because no moon, or stars, or rain or shine

Could take it anyway

This was ours from the beginning

The ground we stood on

Could never feel any shade