In the End (A Poem)

I wish I didn’t love you.

I wish that I didn’t think about you every second of every single day. 

I wish that when I heard your name called in a crowded room, even if you weren’t there, I wouldn’t automatically turn and look for you. 

You’re never there. 

I wish that I could ignore your late night calls, hit decline instead of answer. But I don’t. I answer and we spend hours talking on the phone, and with every word that comes out of your mouth, I fall even more in love with you. 

And I hate it.

I wish that I didn’t smile when my phone lights up with your good morning text that you used to send me every day. It was only a good morning when I got that text. But then, that text stopped coming. 

I wish that I could walk away, that I could finally let you go, because all you ever do is hurt me. All you do is leave me standing there, looking a fool. You’re never there when I need you, yet I drop everything for you. Everything.

I ruin myself for you. 

Sometimes I try to walk away but then you smile at me, and it’s like the world stops. Like one of those cheesy Hallmark movies we would make fun of, snuggled up on the couch and feeding each other popcorn. The world stops turning. My heart stops beating. Then you’re gone, like the snow in the south.

I wish I could burn you out of my head. That I had never met you. That I had never walked over to your table at the cafe where you sat, looking lost and alone.

I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger, stupider self that all you’d bring me was heartache and pain. That I’d bend over backwards, give you every part of me. My heart, my body, my soul. And all you’d give me was fake smiles and cold shoulders. That you’d break me down then build me back up then break me down all over again. Over and over again. It’s the same cycle. I repeat it. 

I come back to you no matter what you do to me. Even though you’ve never chosen me first. Not once. It is always someone else. I am always the last one you chose. And you know that I always come running back.

I wish I didn’t love you. I wish that I could yank you out of my heart, out of my life. Like a broken, rotten wisdom tooth. Tear you out and slap a bandage on it. I’ll be okay. 

But I can’t. 

The truth is, that I love you. I’ll always love you. Even though you’re going to ruin me in the end, I still love you.


Loud (A Poem)

You tell us silence but there is none. We only scream louder, louder, louder.

You slap a hand over our mouths but we bite, drawing blood and keep screaming our truths. The penny taste might taste foul but it reminds us what we are fighting for.

We’ll eat crow for the truth. The truth you don’t want to get out. The truth that you don’t want to acknowledge.

You turn a blind eye and a deaf ear. You think that if you ignore us we’ll give up. But no, we only get louder. We follow you through the streets, holding up our signs and waving them at you.

You call for silence. We call for justice.

You call us traitors. I say we are rebels. I say that we are honoring what it means to be an American by sticking up for what it right, what it is true, what is just. By not believeing the lies you spout out.

We will drown out those lies with our voices. We will prove you wrong.

You can not silence us.

We will only get louder.


Regret (A Poem)

Regret tastes like a rusted penny and the sharp tang of too much salt.

It’s that feeling after you say words that you can’t take back. The words pour from your lips like a glass full of water that’s been knocked over. The glass shatters into a million pieces. You can’t fix that, instead all you do is admire how the shards looks like the stars in the black as pitch sky. The water pours over the linoleum, making it slick and slippery. Dangerous.

You try to pick up the pieces, making tiny little cuts on your fingers, little rivers of red. Sharp, piercing pain that fades over times.

You wish you could take the words back, but you can’t. You grip the shards tighter and tighter, your skin falling apart as you fall apart too. As they walk away.

You want nothing more than to apologize. To scream I am sorry into the dark abyss of regret. But the words get stuck in your throat. Like you are choking and you need someone to pound on your chest to dislodge.

And as they get further and further away, as their silhouette becomes nothing more than a tiny speck in the distance. You regret.

Oh, do you regret.

You wish you could press rewind. Wish you could rewind and start all over. Start with I’m sorry instead of I blame you. Start with I love you instead of I wish I didn’t. Start with I need you instead of I hate you. But it’s already too late.

You crash to the ground, knees bruising, hands flat on the ground, blood pours from your hands like the water on the glass.

The curtain closes.