Farewell, Grandad.


I never got to meet you 

But I love you like I love my father, and like my mother loves you.

She’s kinda broken, though still fierce.

Kinda messed up and kinda figuring her life out still; even though she’s already past 40.

I guess we never really stop doing that, cause life changes all the time and you’ve got to keep adapting, keep forwards. 

Her heart breaks which makes mine break even more.

So I’m hurting doubly for her.

I’m hurting too cause you were always far away, but the stories made me feel like I knew your love, always.

I got to know and love granny and I know that you were probably like her.

So I hurt again for her too. 

Losing you is like losing her all over again, and it’s hard to think that loss is inevitable in life. 

You were the last granddaddy standing. 

I hope your spirit keeps me moving for the rest of my life.

Thank you for giving me my mother.  


Feelings blue and fierce


I’m starting to believe that maybe love is an amalgamation of every other feeling but happiness. And that maybe happiness will always work like an anomaly. A sometimes, sporadic product of all those feelings blue and fierce.

Love you like I know I shouldn’t


I’ve experienced a lifetime of abandonment.
Men walked into my life just as fast as they left.
Father figures blew kisses, locked with lies, masked as promises, telling me, ‘don’t worry, I’ll be back.’
So when you walk into my life, and I let myself, unwillingly, and painfully love you; love you like I know I shouldn’t.
I tense, and I reel, and I lock myself up inside so I don’t have to feel the foreboding sense of pain.
When you tell me you’ll be back. And everything I know, everything that I’ve ever known, tells me that you won’t.



I’ve found too many forms
of escapisms in my lifetime
I’ve discovered that the best thing
that I sometimes know how to do is
– occasionally with my head over my shoulder long enough to trip me up and drag me back to the source of my
so called problems.
And so I keep myself running
find solace in alcohol
a wonderland in cigarettes
and a place far, far far away in poison
the end of the night
I’m curled up
the thumping bass’s gone
I’m alone again
I come to remember that
I can never escape for long enough,
I can never escape far enough,
to get away from myself.