ending


if all things must end
then let this, too
be the end of me.
rather than live
always echoing,
echoing sadness
in a hollow husk.
rather than walk,
numb, along a shore
where hope is set afloat
upon a midwinter sea,
to find its own way home.
where love is mere memory
scrawled in sand.

let me lay down
amongst bitter grey ashes
where truth and promises burned,
let me lay down
and close my eyes
that no longer see your smile
let me lay down
with my tired heart
cobwebbed with cracks
and dream, and wish
for just a single day
without this emptiness.

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Mistress


I am the other woman,
The woman who lies alone at night
In her cooling, rumpled bed…
While somewhere in the darkness,
he lies down with his unbroken promises,
their rings a matching pair.

I am the other woman
The one who is alone through tears and fear
Listening to echoes through her empty womb.
While somewhere there are birthday parties
and the laughter of a boy who looks just like him
rings through the air.

I am the other woman
The one whose loneliness is hidden
In the shadows under her eyes.
And somewhere in her deepest sorrow
and through the love she feels for him
she bears the tears, and lies, and sighs.

I am the other woman,

The woman who lies alone at night

In her cooling, rumpled bed…

While somewhere in the darkness,

he lies down with his unbroken promises,

their rings a matching pair.

I am the other woman

The one who is alone through tears and fear

Listening to echoes through her empty womb.

While somewhere there are birthay parties

and the laughter of a boy who looks just like him

rings through the air.

I am the other woman

The one whose loneliness is hidden

In the shadows under her eyes.

And somewhere in her deepest sorrow

and through the love she feels for him

she bears the tears, and lies, and sighs.

Who Heals Me?


Years ago, I came to terms with the fact that I am a Healer. I am put here to transform and transmute other people’s pain.

I came to this conclusion, because the only people I ever seem to attract into my life are the broken ones. The ones that need all the tenderness and love that I can pour out onto them. They bask, they glow, they find themselves once more, and once they are healed, they go on their way.

Of course, they never look back. If they did, they would see me vainly trying to cope with yet another broken soul’s baggage left behind.

I suppose that in some ways, I bring it upon myself. I find the broken people and I help to put them back together, but I seem to neglect to keep myself intact while I’m mending and soothing.You see, I have a fatal flaw. I love too deeply, too completely, and with everything that I have. I love the people who are unable to love me back.

Each person who comes into my life, receives everything that I have to offer. I spin a safe cocoon of tenderness where they feel able to put themselves back together without judgment, without fear of falling. Once the cocoon is no longer needed, they break free, their soul’s metamorphosis complete, and they flutter away.

It’s frustrating, it’s lonely, and oh, it hurts.