Black Ink and Parchment

I’ve selected some of my poetic prose lines from my poetry books and social media pages that explore the many forms loss can take: the loss of love, identity, certainty, belonging, innocence, possibility, and time itself.  Enjoy.

1. I’ve waited my entire life to feel this way about someone. (I don’t know if it was worth it)
2. The house is crumbling and you prop it up with rotten promises and torn tarps, wondering why you get wet.
3. The silence is loudest when the casket closes.
4. I’ll never live up to my name.
5. The tips of my pens are worn because the death of us begs to be written
6. I tried to warn you but you were determined to have her. I am not sure who regrets it more.
7. I just love how you waltz me in public and ignore me in private.
8. You impress those who don’t need you and destroy those you do.
9. Some relationships are not made for friendship
10. I fear like we are two children playing house with no intention of making pretend official.
11. It was like a flannel blanket, cozy at first, but then everything got too hot and we kicked it off.
12. Teach me how to live without you instead of for you
13. We are a pre-haunting. I just know you are going
    to be with me for the Rest of my life, even if we aren’t
    together.
14. Some souls help us stay together and others make us fall part
15. Even when I fall apart, I pick up your pieces.
16. I am a ruin of what I used to be
17. Nothing broke me quite like the smile he had when he was with her
18. You are the complicated treasure of my life.
19. I no longer watch the rain slide down the windows because It reminds me of you
20. I should have told you, but I was afraid to hit the ground.
21. Your Soft Words Stab me especially when You say them to her
22. The coolness on the side of the bed should tell you all you need to know.
23. I have too many mistakes to add on yours.
24. Some you marry, some you forget, and others… oh those others.
25. He Rips My Soul Apart By Not even touching me

Loss changes shape as we grow. What begins as grief for another person often becomes grief for a version of ourselves; however, every absence creates a space where something new can emerge. The house may crumble. The blanket may be tossed aside. The door may close, but the story continues.