Don’t wait

I waited

Until your reasons sounded like excuses

I waited

With new hope for us and our lives

I waited

For you to cross your hurdles until they became the ones you created

I waited

Unwaveringly suffering from how i was the one impeding us

I waited

Wholeheartedly defending you, protecting you from all my concerns

I waited

Enclosing myself in anxiety, hiding away from reality, my instincts, my gut all screaming something’s wrong

I waited

Never letting anyone in so they wouldn’t know what we were going through because i thought you were fragile

I waited through it all

And got nothing in return

I waited until

I felt like the world was against us

But then admitted to myself

That it was only you against us.

And now I’m here.

Full of regret for being

so blind,

so insecure,

so naive,

so believing,

so in denial,

But a tiny part of me is still waiting

For you to want to prove I’m wrong

So how f***ed is that?



I feel like i lost what i used to be…

My easy optimism
finding joy in all things

The sunrise, the clouds, the flowers, the warmth, the music

Sharing a smile with a passer-by

Seeing the love within a couple, a family, that indelible joy of a child

That golden warm feeling of gratefulness

Being happy because it’s so necessary

And now….

I feel like i lost what i used to be…

Fleeting Flirtation

 There is an art:

which each of us create

anew with each encounter,

whatever day.


…safely exhilarating…

…securely coy…

…furtive, fleeting, taboo…

though willingly innate.


silent observers swear by it:

the glance, the presence, the immense haughtiness.

innocent…yet charged with minute passion.


a glance met…

as a mask slides upon each player’s face:

a mute drama begins.


around each involvee a force field emerges:

actions of the other magnified,

leaving all else oblivious.


engaged in this duel of strangers two,

interest is feigned upon all else but the other,

so daringly they counter each other’s broach of space.


The untouched brush:


so close, so close…

to reach out and trace a finger upon….


yet moment by moment intimacy,

cannot purely connect them.


so there one and one,

stay each unknown:


to continue their glance

to continue their silent dance…