untitled, pt. 2

your mother did not spend nine months – growing, forming, molding – your heart for you to let some boy break it in seconds. she did not hold your hand as you crossed… Continue reading

tell me ||

I don’t wish for small talk; not with you. I don’t want to know the weather where you are or if the deli down the street started selling your favorite New York style… Continue reading


                                                                 … Continue reading

when I used to look in the mirror,

I saw you as a temple; something to worship and respect in the only way I knew how. but I forgot that the only way I knew how would mean burning you to… Continue reading


I have learned that if you are down, stay down. don’t get back on your feet until you are prepared to stand, until you have learned why you fell. because nine times out… Continue reading

excerpt from a book I’ll never write; two.

to be honest, I’ve only ever seen you as poetry. you stopped being human the moment we first locked eyes. when I felt the electricity running through my veins — the first time… Continue reading


one day I will write poetry about this — how the mornings came without ever having closed our eyes. and the way the night fell just as quickly. one day I will write… Continue reading

a picture a day.

take pictures for me, okay? lots of them. wherever you are, I want to know what the sky looks like. you always loved a good sunset. I’ll take them for you too; of… Continue reading

for the broken-hearted.

there is more to life than him /her. there are cafes on cozy downtown corners with age old art and vintage lights and that waiter who always smiles at you when you order… Continue reading


if I could do my first love over again, I’d learn how to look in mirrors and start loving the person I should have loved first — me. I wouldn’t drown in the… Continue reading