Despair (an old wound)

I woke up in the middle of the night,
sweating and gasping for air
as reality grabbed me by the throat
and tried to choke me in my sleep..

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Utopia (an old wound)

It wasn’t until her
that I learnt of
solitude.
Of how loneliness
could choke you
just because she
left a void
in me.

Still Life (an old wound)

The coldness was
so familiar
that a little heat
blew me away.

Three Words (an old wound)

You once told me
that I used those three words
too often
and now it seems meaningless
to you somehow..

Sucker Punch (an old wound)

The breath got
knocked out of me
and sweat dripped
down my back.
I knew then
trouble approached;
I knew then
she had sucker punched me.

Taking Flight

Love,
a butterfly set freely within.
Allowed to roam as it wants,
allowed to be as it is,
allowed to simply exist.

Little Things

I miss the intimacy that we once had –
The way my hand would easily find yours
No matter where we were at that moment
And how I’d hold on to you tight.