Scarlet Thoughts


Doubled over by the despair i promised myself i would never let invade my soul again,
I fell onto the armchair as soon as i let myself in through the door. heaved over the mound of clothes i had not put away for days, i hyperventilated.

Trying to breathe the right way -slow deep breaths- even that, you had ruined for me. the association of things and places and actions is just too strong when it comes to you. i closed my eyes trying to squeeze out every bit of the tears that were welling up in my eyes. i wanted to get them all out, because i didn’t want to feel this insanity any longer. i had told you good bye, but i knew that in a matter of hours it wouldn’t be the same as how i wanted to mean it. and you couldn’t even say it back. “good luck” is all that fell from your mouth after i had hugged you, squeezing you, trying to hold onto what i had ripped myself away from.

It was just too hard. i couldn’t stand to even look at you for very long. your loving gaze would pull me into an endless stream of salty water pouring from my eyes.

I tried to text you after almost a day of no words exchanged, but of course you had gone back to your usual silence after a bad ‘ending’. it wasn’t an ending. that is the point of us. it’s never an ending . despite you and i experiencing the universe ripping us apart and pulling us back together again, the point is, is that we always ‘end’-up back together again.

I had just gotten used to the sound of the train echoing from it’s body, and similar to how my sounds penetrate into your neighbor’s walls so too does the yearning of the train past the thick glass of my window and through the once sturdy walls of my dwelling. i suck on a piece of dark chocolate and think of how you once put it at the bottom of the white russian you had made me as a suprise, while we watched the fights for the first time, cuddling each other in one another’s arms.

You won’t have a hard time not thinking of me, because your defense  and compartmentalization skills are far beyond my capabilities. though, i do not honestly know if that is a good thing. self preservation is a skill one must have but, at what cost?

You tell me that you don’t think of me in select times when we rip apart. But you decorated me this time, adorning me with a ribbon around my neck. loose enough and perfectly placed. the wrinkles in it didn’t matter. And before i left, i placed it around the neck of your little stuffed grover- a place you’ll be sure to notice. it will be harder than the last time for you to forget my presence. the pink residue from my hair dye still decorates your pillowcase and your skin. regular soap won’t do. you have to rub it out with alcohol in hopes of getting rid of me. though you never do so fully.

It will be only a matter of time until the universe puts us back together again. it is this in-between time that gets to me the most. as you are not thinking of me, i am using every once of my being to distract myself from you. and it’s like that poem written so long ago with the message of ‘if you think you’ve realized that you have reached the point of not thinking of a person, well by that realization, you’ve sent yourself back. back exactly to thinking of them’.

I tried to wash your sent away within an hour upon arriving home. a faint sent of you still lingers in my washed hair, just like how you will linger in my mind, and forever in my heart.

There’s a place saved for you there. will you ever be able to take it?

the universe is a cruel thing to us. perhaps it’s only a matter of time until it changes its consistent inconsistency, -a tune that we have grown with- to something that lasts and is truly solid.

I just want you to know that I love you, and too wish you luck in the time we are yet again apart.

The Ten Year Story

-The Ten Year Story-
She woke up just in time to watch the sun set. Grabbing the orange metallic sparkly box entitled “ME”, she rummaged through the many pill bottles, and found her pain killers. Popping one in her mouth and swallowing it with some flat soda, she settled in her bed once again to wait for it to do its trick. The cats were all around her feet. They snuggled in and had been there all day while they waited for her to wake. The back pain surrounds her on a daily basis but some weeks are worse than others and sometimes she just can’t take it if the other aspects of life weigh heavily on her mind. “They make the pain worse” she tells herself and anyone who asks. Holding that emotional pain in the same place she already has physical pain doesn’t make too much sense but it’s as if she has no choice.
The room is dark now. Somehow the computer screen distracted her enough for her to miss the sunset. She’ll be up for the greater part of the night now. Getting into these funks always mess with her sleep pattern. The cats don’t seem to mind. It’s as if they innately know to adapt to her schedule. She feels so lonely without the one person she’s loved for ten years. The cats help her not feel so alone, but she still feels the yearning to be by his side. Longing for a day when life will not include thinking about him, she can’t help but remember their first Christmas tree they had together.
The tree was so bright. Their apartment seemed to glow in every room when the tree was lit up. He never had a want for fancy things. She on the other hand, was completely the opposite. Though down to earth in her ways of how she thought about life, she did not skimp on some things. Some things were meant to be lavish and to be enjoyed. This tree was one of those things. The tree was so heavy and bringing that tree up the two flights of stairs to their tiny apartment was quite a task. He resented the fact that she had him wrapped around his finger, and was able to get him to do just about anything. He was her rock though, and just like that Christmas tree lighting up their whole place, he too lit up her world.
He brought to light how things really were in her life. Sometimes all it takes is someone from the outside to look in and see everything from that perspective. She had been able to do this for him to a point as well as many others in her life but he was the only one who stayed after she helped. Many others would just come to her with problems and she’d solve them, and then it was as if they would discard her after they didn’t need her anymore. It’s parallel to the idea of a Christmas tree. You glorify it only to discard it after a few weeks. Never did she think that she’d be thrown away by him like their tree was.
It took years for him to do it. Little by little as time went on, and as he made life choices that had him running to or away from something, creating a great physical and mental distance between him and her, he lost himself in the processes. The big turning point though was the event that really started it all.
It was the biggest dispute they had ever had. He so badly wanted to join the military. She, knowing that it would never be the same between them begged him endlessly to not join. One night he offered to take her to dinner to their favorite Indian food place. She thought that it might be the night that he would tell her that he finally saw her point of view on the matter, and that he wasn’t going to leave her. As they pulled up to the restaurant, he decided to park in front of the place right next to it. “I have to make a quick stop in here first” he said. She then read the letters on the front of this building. It was a recruitment office. She followed him in, and he asked the men inside for information on the difference between the army and the marines. She couldn’t believe her ears. What a cruel trick he had played. He then motioned toward her as he told the men that his girlfriend was in full support of his decision to join the military. They nodded in that formal way that never means anything to those on the end. After he gathered all the information he thought he needed, he expected her to still be in the mood to go to dinner with him. All she could do was think about how cruel this was, but she knew that if she let her emotions show, that it wouldn’t do any good.
‘Going through the motions’ at dinner that night became a staple skill in her life. She learned how to do this over the year that followed. She got really good at it. It was like ignoring the feeling of your shoes hurting while at a party; having the attitude of, “well if I act like they do not hurt, then no one will know that they do”. She couldn’t let anyone know how bad she was hurting. He was the only one she could open up to like that. her mother used to be the one she could turn to, but that ship had sailed, and he had brought this happening to her full attention, along with her father’s way of life.
Realizing that she was losing her mother just about at the same time she was losing him to the military made life quite difficult to pretend her shoe’s didn’t hurt, but she managed the best she could. Her mother had gone to a therapist, and that therapist had brainwashed her mother to the point where her mother turned into a shell of a person. Her father wasn’t much better at the time. He was too involved in doing ‘the work of the lord’ to be too bothered by helping his own family.
So there she was, completely alone and ‘pretending her shoes didn’t hurt’. After he left for the military, and after that slow painful year that went by too quickly-(the last year that things felt somewhat normal for her and him)- she gave into the idea of escaping a bit herself. She was fed up with always doing the right thing and acting as if things didn’t hurt. This was the year she became more of herself by escaping the version of herself that everyone knew her to be. It was freeing. Never had she felt more alive but too, she felt the pain of the hole he had left in her heart. He still believed that they could work things out. Rejecting this idea many times, and then going back to him and giving in because she truly loved him, and then rejecting him again, and then giving in again took its toll on him. She never thought that he would grow tired of it though. She felt as if she could always go back to him because he had told her that no matter what, he would never stop loving her. After a messy ten years, his love finally ran out though, just in time for her to discover that she wanted him in her life for good, and that she’d do anything to keep it that way.
Now sitting in bed, feeling her pain killers finally kick in, she is trying to feel the feelings so she can try let go of it all, and to move on, but she doesn’t know how to not love him. Maybe if she just pretends that her shoes don’t hurt, she’ll convince herself once more to live in a matter of acting as if everything is fine. In the meantime, her cats will keep her company.

our spot

Our Spot

I’ll ask you

to meet me at our spot

the one that we discovered

so many years ago,

the one that you vowed to

never forget

ill ask you to meet me there

and your face will

wrinkle up

in confusion of

what i am requesting of you

that former self, you

once were at times

has died

and all the memories that

meant something,

along with it

that’s okay

I’ll bury you.

that once sweet boy,

I’ll take him to that place

that he would remember

and cover his dead body

with the dirt

that was once our foundation

of love



A Slow Death

A Slow Death

It was a slow process;

Pulling that trigger and

Sending that final bullet into your heart

It was the final bolt in your efforts

To build a man out of hurt and

The will to run

It was the last thing

Needed in

Losing who you really were

Slow and painful

So you numbed your mind first

Alcohol and cigarettes were

Easiest to come by and

After years of self-medicating

You were ready to

Close off that heart of yours

For good.

It will be a slow process;

Me letting go of

Who you really were

Who , up until recently i

Still believed you could be

The man I love is forever

Locked inside now

You killed him with that

Final bullet from that gun you


Slow and painfully I will let go

Of loving who I saw

Amongst all the layers that

You let yourself now grow

Into an uncontrollable thicket

Too thick for even the most eager

To cut through.

You’ve strangled yourself

And what is left

Is a hardened shell

Without a center.

Those weeds

And that final bullet

Killed that life

Once inside you.

This is the final goodbye

the goodbye you

forced me into by

killing your real self

that person I love.

And you don’t even realize

The slow and painful process

I will now begin.


January 15, 2015

Mistreated Moments

-Mistreated Moments-

Those moments with you

(when you loved me)

I tried so desperately to

live in the moment

drinking in every word you had said

and asking you to repeat it if

I had a fear that I had misheard

Treating every moment as

something sacred

trying to enjoy it and

not cling to it…

I wish I had just been there

with you.


these moments;

they appear less clear

than a ghostly image.

And now,

I hear echoes of your voice but

you don’t want me to



January 12, 2015

The Photographer

The Photographer

He saw something in us;

That photographer who

Unexpectedly approached

Our wooded

pretend adventure,

Kind and inspired

I wish I could have seen it

But I was lying to myself

Back then when

I thought I could do better

I don’t know where those photos

Ended up

I received them

In the mail and

They made me cry;

You were gone by then.