Heart Breaker

For the most part I think that people don’t want to hurt each other. Whether we break the heart or have it broken. It is painful on both ends. It is the loss of hope. Because that is what any intimate relationship really is, hope. Hope that we won’t die alone, hope that we are accepted as we are, and hope that we got someone who’s got our back. Lost hope sucks doesn’t it? How can the other not see yourself anymore?
As much as people don’t really want to hurt each other, the stronger desire is to not feel pain. We build walls around ourselves to protect ourselves from this pain we are so afraid of. Whether it was in love the first shot was fired or school aged bullying… we all have holes in the armor. And the chinks, give us all a complex. I don’t think we even mean to give them that much power and yet we do.
With each spear we grow an even greater need to seek affirmation, a greater need to be loved. We seek this love out as we seek out food or water or air. We need it to thrive, and so we are destined to thirst for acceptance and connection; it puts us in harm’s way and it causes us to inadvertently harm others.
There was a boy in school who used to pick on me every day, he went out of his was to push my face into the water fountain. I lived in fear of this boy’s constant ridicule and the public laughs he choreographed in my direction. One day I caught him at the drinking fountain… and shoved his face into the water fully prepared to laugh in revenge… He wretched around blood gushing from his gums, an expression of pain on his face. I saw vulnerability and for the first time I felt love.
I could see then, this boy had a crush on me; but I could see that he, like the rest of us, had a feeble complex too. He did not have the courage to just tell me… Why?
Because the fear of letting me see him for who he was, and not accept him; could be the moment of vulnerability that could ceaselessly destroy him.
We forget that the person closest to our hearts, is ourselves. The only one truly capable of knowing, accepting and loving the soul within is the one inside… It is knowing, accepting and loving ourselves that draws love from others, because we are mirrors to one another.
As Fitzgerald saw in Gatsby, I see in the boy; “And so our hopes beat on, boats against the current, born back ceaselessly into the past.”


Intertwined and Star Crossed Paths

Life is more complicated than it should be;

but then who wants to take the easy street?

I have always taken the path less traveled,

and to my own demise at times.

This forbidden path is so tempting, so sweet

so comfortable, and beset on all sides with pain

and torment and loss.

I know I want you on my path 

but I don’t want to take you off of yours.

I want us to share a path.

It seems as though life has all ready 

intertwined our paths with one another,

but I want more.

I want our paths to be one path,

our love to be one love,

and our souls to be one soul.

I fancy falling in love much more than I should 

and for this reason I have found myself with many a broken heart.

Yours is one I do not wish to break, 

one I do not wish to have in secret or 

in the dark, but happily and proudly out in the open.

Hands intertwined as we walk down 

our chosen path writing the story of our own creating.

I cannot settle for anything less…

and I would not want you to settle for anything less.

Please love,

my heart is won and waiting,

my love hides behind the curtain

anxious to be freed.

Free me… please.

Out of the Ashes








My selfish heart

pleads for more…

Oh, I would that it were me…

That my pining heart

bleed not in vain.

What a silly thought…

That this Phoenix in me

should have a mate.

My mate is fiery destruction…

and glorious rebirth.

I am enveloped by ash and ember,

impatiently awaiting the spirit within

to breath life anew;

and rise up with a sweeter song

than ever before issuing forth

from my charcoal heart.

the song of mine;

once void in it’s beauty;

bursts with new vibration;

a harmony sweet and savory,

sorrowful in satisfaction;

calling out into the smokey darkness;

in hopeful search

of you,

my love.

phoenix love

A Chronicling of Heart Break


Vexatious Love,

endlessly you evade my grasp

taunting me with your joyous hope.

I am a Queen worthy

of a King

not in need of convincing.

It is the queens hand won.

And yet I am lost

lost to the wilderness and wolves

fortune finds me in the dark

I am not the damsel in distress

I need no saving from the wolves,

yet my sex is keen to be saved.

You encroached in my forest 

and for a full moon

we danced and knew

that it was all meant to be…

if even for just that moment.


Bound, twisted and tormented

Turtle Doves we have become.

For the sake of unquenched desire

for conjugation and completion.

Untapped well of compassion

Felios and Eros

conformed together.

Unified in one-ness


as a pair of atoms

wizing through reality

clashed in a single collision

creating in the wake

a whole new reality…

Hopes illusions,

I recall.

I really don’t know at all.

Torn and vexed

my soul is

at the cacophony of deep,

heavy and consuming


emotion issuing from

the newly beating,

once decrepit heart.

I want so many things in life,

I have always wanted so much

though I have never

fancied wanting in vain.


This heart ache is notched

on my soul

branded into my being

as all the ones before it.

Chronicling the extremes and extents

to which a heart can be broken.

The story inside


A Poor Steward 

and A Gifted Heart.

Etched upon my face

the sorrow and pain of life

grows as a small shoot

out of the crack

of a busy sidewalk.

The walkway now deserted

and placidity having taken over,

is overgrown slowly at first;

picking up speed in time,

by the little shoot once worn and struggling,

now thriving.

A heart gifted indeed,

oh dreadfully unlucky me.

To whom should I give it?

Always the wrong 

never the right…

I long for one to come along

and take this heart of mine,

end my lifetime of torment.

It bleeds continuously

and I am no medic.

If you will not have my heart

strong and free and wild as it is

I will be content to lock it away

and take up my life of freedom

and solitude 

with no remorse for action

no second thought for the 

hearts and possessions of others.

I will guard the cage of my heart

I will keep it safe

for it is mine and i will not have it taken

from me.

I would that you

take it, win it

own it, cherish it

in the way that I know only you can.

A fucked and twisted

turn in the plot, I know.

That you,

you my old and unforeseen friend

have come out of the wood work

in the still of the night and

with no hope or expectation

have completed me.

With this broken completion

I will just say

this heart has been gifted

to many a poor steward.

Simply not fitting a caretaker.

The premature and ill-planned

gifting of this heart

have written this

Chronicling of Heart Break.

Furthermore, I

I, Charlie Brown;

do finally have the will

to hope for a happy ending.

Lucky Lucy may jest at my expense,

for I know the truth in life,

it is simple to see

when you are the protagonist.

Lucy loves Charlie. 



Freedom, Cynics and Frozen Comodities

Give me my Cynicism and my Dark Side.

They are mine,

born from the sorrow and pain of only

my love lost in the world

as the wind scatters dust.

How you comfort me,

you always have.

At times I have thrown you to the wind

and eloped with delusions of grandeur

and false hopes of 

a so called “good life”.

My friends you always return to my side 

as a magnet drawn, decidedly.

A silly girl with silly ideas.

Swept up in the whirlwind of it all

and made a fool in the wake of it.

Gracious hope smiled down on me 

in my apathy and 

quick as the man of steel


away it all went.

I’m not fine,

how could I be?


I’m ok.

My heart frozen now 

and with no hope of a spring

or a radiant stream

or an adrenalin shot;

will manage this life

just the same as it always has.

One thing to be said:

These are the things they write stories about,

these are things that stay with us…

that always make us wonder…

what if?

I know people,

I know humanity…

at first it will be a flood of

“I wonder”‘s

and one day they will be put in a box

a small, secret treasure chest…

and in your moments of solitude

you will open that box

and search through it…

in it you will find me,

not as I am presently

but as I was when you put me in the box

and your heart will feel longingly

and again there will be

“I wonder”‘s

One day time will have caught up to you

on your journey

and life will have been distracting

and again you will find yourself in solitude

opening the box

and finding me

and again there will be

“I wonder”‘s

… a word of advice…

A faint heart never caught a fair lady,

nor does it keep one.

Put the wonder out of my heart I must,

though it pains me to do so,

for the wonder is a small hope

a simple and twisted comfort.

I must forsake these hopes of things lost,

not mine, or otherwise unattainable

or there will never be satisfaction for me.

I mustn’t mourn

what was not mine to lose

and I mustn’t freeze my life in the noon hour…

frozen my heart remains…

For honor must not be lost

and I haven’t the power

nor the will

to do that which

my heart has not beckoned me.

If life will not allow me that which my heart tells me I have need,

I will do nothing

with my heart.

I will live

I will thrive

I may love

I will die.

Well played life,

I hope by then I will have learned the lesson.

But then again,

who really does?


Charlie Brown is a Doomed Son of a Bitch

Does Charlie Brown ever get that damn football?

The answer is simple and inevitable… No

No, not ever.

He is never going to either.

He is only ever going to be tricked into giving it his all,

and he is always going to have his all knock him on his ass.

I had actually grown open to having high hopes

open in ways I never have been.

It is as though life has surgically removed

the hard outer casing of my heart

carefully mended the battle wounds

and then stuck a poisonous spear into the meat of my heart.

I had a light shine on me in the darkest of places

warm I was at last

and filled with hope and desire and passion for life,

but that light has turned away from me.

It has taken the warmth and comfort that

I had thought I would never have

that I was eternally grateful to have a glimpse of a hope for,

and deserted me

left me to wallow in my own darkness and sorrow.

Left me to rebuild

the walls that had been let down.

Reconstruct defenses a thousand times as strong as the ones before.

The anguish and pain of this everlasting darkness

is a whale crushing my intimacy

swallowing me whole.

I wish it would swallow me and all my sorrow.

But that wont do either,

for none of that brings the light back

none of that gets me you.

I had quickly grown to know

that you were all I wanted and needed in life.

that if my partner in crime were you all would be well

and that was a ruse.

for my foolishness I feel ashamed.

embarrassed for the intimacy shared.’

That Damn Lucy always makes Charlie Brown feel like

maybe this time

he’ll be happy

maybe this time he’ll get the satisfaction of his greatest hope.

She never gives it to him though.

She rips it out of his reach at the last minute

every time

and reminds Charlie Brown

that he is indeed one Doomed Son of a Bitch.

Luck he does not have

but at the beginning of each new round

I wish Lucy the best of Luck.

Under the Full Moon… Baby, I howl for You.


Oh the fates are cruel

with their ill timed bombardment

of long sought for connection.

Months of inescapable solitude

have molded me in fortitude of self.

They have also hardened my heart

and grown cynicism and apathy

towards love, lovers and intimacy.

In the height of my isolation

I find you.

where have you been ?

And why must you be unreachable…

now that I have found you?

In the full moon a stood

and was content we were both

being bathed in the same lunar luminescence.

My face worn from a life of sorrow

basked in the brisk fall night’s air

and cracked into a thousand pieces

under the magnitude of the joy

suddenly worn so openly on my face.

I laughed out loud at the universe,

under a canopy of stars and smog.

Ow Ow Aahwoooooh!

I love to howl at the moon!

Though you are at present so very

unattainable, so far from my arms…

I am comforted to howl

at the same full moon as you.

I feel strange and excited

by the way the petrified casing

around my heart has begun to dissolve.

How have you done this?

What power do you hold over my affections?

It is as though you have always been there

holding the most intimate and

inner recesses of my soul

with your strong and capable

love , understanding and passion.

A tough life has allowed me to

gain wisdom and understanding…

and for a season of my life I thought

I was wise….

Alas, I am a fool, and joyfully so.

For a wise man cannot love.

For love is the language of fools

in this world of selfish pride, and pain.

Pining, I told myself I would

never do again…

and your affection has caused

the entirety of my being to ache with

an insatiable longing.

It is  in the most literal of senses


to be, in the moment, not held by you.

My soul pleads for realization

of this palpable fantasy.

Finally the sense of belonging

I have scoured life for

has found me.

I belong.

I belong with you…

to you…

and you to me.

I hope God is kind

and allows me this precious