This is a poem that I wrote about a month ago about saying goodbye to this chapter of my life. It is a bittersweet thing; bitter since my life here did not work out despite how hard I tried to make my house a home and my relationship a family, but sweet since I am excited for the next chapter.
This is a poem that I wrote about how I am a doer and I always do what I say I'd like to do, and how people make promises that they don't keep and how, in truth, hypotheticals are just lies.
This is a poem that I wrote reiterating to someone that they are more, sweet, creative, and beautiful than they think and deserve better than the people that they surround themselves by.
This is a poem that I wrote last night while walking down the city sidewalks in the cold after a run. It is from the point of view of the people who have hurt me, as if they are possessing me to write a goodbye letter that I never received from any of them.
This is a poem that I wrote the other day about hurts that you don't expect to come. I also just concluded my most recent collection of poetry, "Explosions of Another Dimension", and this will be the first poem in the next collection that will have the same name, "Cuts from Sea Glass".
This is a poem that I wrote recently about the loss of a love that could have lasted for a lifetime of happiness.
This is a poem that I wrote recently, partially inspired by things I have felt and experienced in the past, but not entirely based on my own experience. It's just about the concept of love coming to an end because often times only one person sees it coming.
This is a poem I wrote about a lost love. My first book of poetry was titled “The Gardens That Were”, and both that title and the title of this poem are derived from a poem that appeared in that book. “gone, lost, departed / like the gardens of her / I would cut it all down / for the gardens that were”. Gardens being something beautiful, were being locked in the past. For me, the memory of her is something beautiful, but something locked in my past.
This is a poem about caving into the continuous dreams of someone who one tried to stop dreaming of long ago, and is therefore a bit of a sequel to my previous poem "The Librarian".
This is a more ambiguous poem about the nature of promise.