at first

the silence was deafening.

I had almost forgotten how much

he likes to talk.


the silence feels settled.

like a warm blanket I wrap myself around.




I’ve barely spoken a word

in the last three days

and sure, I’m heartbroken

but somehow I’m also

in total bliss.

how you doin’?

I’m enveloped in a cloud of smoke

hoping it’s big enough

to dull my heart

even mezcal wasn’t strong enough-

if anything it just made me miss him



If I could talk to him

I would ask

“what are you doing, amore?’

But broken hearts speak like strangers

his words now so carefully arranged

so as not to tear me apart

which is ironic

because it’s much too late

for such niceties now.


But hey, that’s ok

maybe this is just what I needed

to get my creative juices


Lord knows I’m no stranger to pain.

So I welcome it in.

Tell it I missed it,

even though I was hoping

we’d never see each other again.

Moving Out

Two tears to each box

at least

I motivate myself to pack these past 2.5 years away

By pretending I can shove all my sorrows in these suitcases,

right next to my summer clothes and photographs of better days-

things I know I won’t be revisiting for a while


My body

Burning hot

won’t even let me pretend anymore

And reality?

Well, she’s such a cold hard bitch.