Category: romance

With racing hearts and dimming lights, our bod…

With racing hearts and dimming lights,
our bodies find the floor like corpses
and we are led to meditation.
A voice tells me to think of a safe place,
something that’s mine
and I instantly feel a warmness in my chest.
She tells us to close our eyes,
slow our breathing, 
and find it.
“Remember how it feels,” she guides,
and there’s softly brushing my cheek,
“what it looks like,” she continues,
green eyes flash across the backs of my eyelids,
“sounds like,”
his voice blankets me again, soft and warm,
“smells like," 
his shampoo is still in my hair
"tastes like,”
I remember the mint of his toothpaste from any other.
“It doesn’t matter what it is,” she whispers,
“just as long as you feel safe there, happy,”
and I certainly do –
the only home I know is in your arms.
I could almost drift off to sleep 
from the peace I’ve found
recalling forehead kisses and sleepy afternoons.
I’ve never breathed so lightly, so easily,
I’m so in love with you.

how am i to sleep without you in my arms?

how am i to sleep
without you in my arms?

It’s 11:11, make a wish,” I whispe…

It’s 11:11, make a wish,” I whispered, lost in the ticking of the clock.
“I’ve got mine,” he replied instantly and I was too curious to keep myself from asking what wish provoked such a quick response. “Can I tell you?” he questioned, wondering if sharing a wish truly keeps it from coming true.
“I don’t know, write it down and tell me in a month,” I offered.
“How about in 20 years?” he asked with a contagious smile. 
“That works, too.

Let’s drive for miles and miles until we find …

Let’s drive for miles and miles until we find someplace so quiet that it lets you forget anyone else exists.

It’s scary when empty people like us fin…

It’s scary when empty people like us find love.
How do I feel so much after years of neutrality?

i gave up on the notion of romance until i met…

i gave up on the notion of romance
until i met you.

5. Everything here smells of medical saniti…


Everything here smells of medical sanitizer and tragedy, and this boy, this boy I adore is holding me close, begging me to not stop loving him. I am tired of telling him that I will never stop. Yet he still asks, like I was time slipping through his fingers. Even now, in this moment, so close I don’t know where his body ends and mine begins, he thinks I am made of a soft dream cloud, waiting to drift away.

Even if it’s him that has sad eyed doctors telling him there is not much more they can do. Even if it’s him who has lied about the sickness from the moment we began and it took a two story fall for him to tell me the truth. Even if it’s him the dark demon called cancer watches from the corner of this hospital room every night.


Last night, we spent the evening sitting on a rooftop watching a storm gather. Any minute now, it would hit in such full force it would nearly knock us down. There was a thrill in that, in being closer to the sky than we were to the ground, thunder splitting from the sky, sounding like a monster from beyond knew that we were watching and was calling our names.

“The worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Tell me.”

You wrinkled your nose and grinned “Anything that isn’t you.”

“That is so cheesy, it belongs on a lasagna.” I laughed and shoved at your chest. Neither of us saw that broken tile.

Neither of us knew what was going to happen next.


It’s been 3 months and his fingers have not stopped counting my ribs every night. He reminds me my heart is a caged bird in my chest and he knows how to set it free, and he will, he will if only I let him.

I haven’t for the life of me been able to get the way he soft hums all my favourite songs out of my head, like a huge light in this dark room I call my depression, a room no one has ever been in. Except his gentler than a birdsong voice. 

Still, I won’t call this love. Love is too destructive a word for something this soft, this sweet.


I hesitate to tell anyone I have met him for weeks. Not even my best friends. Perhaps if I keep my happiness to myself, not even the Gods learn of it. I tell him this.

“Don’t make me too happy." 

He looks over to me, hair wind swept in this jeep, one hand on the steering wheel, the other playing with my hair, everything about him both dangerous and endearing at once. "Why?”

“Everyone knows the Gods only take things from you when you are really happy.”


Four minutes into the party, I recognise I had made a mistake in coming here. Blindly walking through shouting, dancing, grinding strangers, I look for a door, for anything…real. A hand takes mine gently and shows me to a door.

“I don’t know you!” I shout so I am heard over the roar of the party, thinking he has mistaken me for someone else. The messy haired, soft eyed boy smiles, “That’s okay!” he shouts back to me, as he leads me to a door to a quiet balcony, overlooking an upcoming storm over the neighbourhood “I don’t know me either.”

But the wind dances past his shoulders, the lightning striking in the far distance behind him giving him an angel’s wings for a quarter of a second.

And I know all I need to know about him in that split second.

I wonder if the reason we close our eyes when…

I wonder if the reason
we close our eyes
when we kiss people 
is because it is easier then
to forget they ever
happened to us
when they finally leave.

Of course, I miss you. No one else knows how t…

Of course, I miss you. No one else knows how to be a Friday night on a Monday morning, the split second decision before a long midnight drive, the sweet surprise of rainfall after the hottest day. In the book of my life, you will always be my favourite adventure. But beings like you will never belong to anyone. Wild things like you can only belong to yourself and to the moon.

I have always been good at finding people who …

I have always been good at finding people who will break my heart, people who will tear pieces of my soul, hand it back to me and tell me it was no good to them torn apart.