out of fucks to give

I’m not sure if the tears have run dry

or if it’s just the love

either way I’m straight out of fucks to give

maybe it’s anger’s turn to take a swing

at this whole heartbreak thing

have its way with another page boy

who couldn’t keep up with this Queen.



he reminds me when I need to slow down-

he stands and waits

heart in hand

trying his best to trade love

for my words

but sometimes I don’t have any

so I gift him I-don’t-knows instead

and wait in silence

for logic to clue me in.

Isn’t it strange

the way life can be so blurry

but sobering,

so logical and real

and borderline boring

and how I can still wish

for storms.

Stability unknown

I crave the comfort of chaos

while I seek magic in the small moments-

while brushing my teeth

or during our daily dances in the kitchen

I have it all

and still some part of me

wants more.

it is never enough.

Guess I’m just a glutton

for love.

after goodbye

I move the furniture around and buy a new plant to replace the one he left with.

I decorate the coffee table he built and think of the day when he sat down on the couch and with my hands in his, committed to starting a home with me.

“I’ll build us a coffee table” he said.

looking back now it all seemed so promising,

the singular becoming plural, our lives merging.

Now the plural reverts to the singular

because this home is again

just mine.


I have put thought into every corner of this place. I manifested a home and I love it in a way I’ve never loved four walls before.

I just hate having to see him around here these days.

No matter how much palo santo I burn to cleanse him out of my space, he is still holding me naked against that wall, our lips tasting of mezcal, my hand pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck as we both give in to sin.

he is still sitting beside me on the couch

talking nonstop about this thing or the other

And I’m still cooking him dinner with only an apron on,

still lighting the candles and serenading him as I dance around,

still looking over at him with awe,

still giving away

so much love.


it’s sickening.


I’m still sitting here

waiting for him to come home

just like I always did

Back when there was a we.



He pulled her out into the street and with his arm around her waist, he started to sway both their bodies back and forth, a crooked smile on his face giving away his intentions.

Her feet fumbled to follow along, which made her feel grateful that their only audience then were the rows of bushes lit up in Christmas lights. It was 2 a.m. and they were drunk, but the thrill of sharing a silent dance in the middle of the street with a stranger  was far more intoxicating than all the alcohol ingested in the last couple of hours. And lucky for him, she had always been a sucker for magic and romance. For silent nights and all the possibilities in life that leads one to connect with a total stranger.

So she let him hold her small palms in his rough hands and inched herself closer to get high off his suffering, moving her body right along to his unbalanced feet as she breathed in his pain and breathed out comfort. Tonglen. A lion’s roar could’ve been heard coming from her heart then- it you had been around and were connected enough to listen.

She understood how darkness felt.

She knew he needed saving.

And as luck would have it, sometimes she liked to switch parts and become someone else’s savior for a change. Every now and then she needed to be the one who was seen as strong.

Playing Damsel in Distress was starting to get old.

endless possibilities

Maybe I’ll move to Mexico.

Maybe I’ll find myself

just to lose myself

and then find myself again.


Maybe this is the time to pursue destiny

and not stay stuck in the comfortable.

Maybe this is when I start a whole new chapter, or

maybe it’s an entire book.


Maybe endings are actually beginnings

and heartbreaks chances for healing.

Maybe I’m not walking away

but walking towards,


moving closer to happiness

than I’ve ever been.


Maybe mind can remind heart of reality

and maybe the only way to move on

is to move through it.



attempts at meditation

I sit cross-legged on my living room floor with eyes closed as I search for my center, holding rose quartz gemstones in the palm of each hand. I imagine healing energy flowing from my hands straight to my heart as I look inwards and outwards through my third eye in search of messages, signs, movements, colors, sparks, really anything but darkness. Then suddenly I see very faintly, the image of a door and the shadow of someone dancing behind it.


Next I see dancing rainbows- an explosion of orderly colors continuously moving parallel to each other, an infinity of joy and happiness. I start laughing at the silly nature of these images and immediately I understand what all of this means. As I sit in stillness alone with my sadness, I’m being told to lighten up and not take everything so seriously.

And so what if my heart broke? How great to have loved so much!

And so what if he left? I’m never really alone.

As these realizations dawn on me like soft rain, I  start to sense hundreds of people sitting in a circle around me and I feel so much love and peace.

And in that moment, in the silence, cross-legged alone on the floor of my living room, I understand that I’m safe.

I’m protected.