heartbreak and cigarettes

Tag: life

  • Learning to let go.

    Learning to let go.

    I’ve had things
    ripped away from me.
    I’ve given things away.
    Some things,
    I’ve lost.
    And in the end,
    it all remains the same:
    I learned to let go.

    “Learning to let go.” – sugar and sandalwood

  • Your worth is limitless…

    Your worth is limitless…

    Your worth is
    limitless,
    like a vibrant,
    fragrant
    field of lilacs
    swaying
    back and forth
    winds
    of the
    spring.

    “Your worth is limitless…” – sugar and sandalwood

  • Life expands.

    Life expands.

    Life expands
    as it goes on.
    Opportunities
    open wide
    with experience.

    “Life expands.” – sugar and sandalwood

  • One year.

    One year.

    Even though a year
    has passed, I still
    think of you and
    what we could have been.

    “One year.” – sugar and sandalwood

  • I waited

    I waited

    I waited for you
    like the sand waits for
    the ocean tide to roll back
    in on the beach. Shifting it,
    rejuvenating,
    making it new again.

    “I waited” – sugar and sandalwood

  • Chasing love.

    Chasing love.

    Chasing love is like trying
    to catch your shadow.
    The harder you run,
    the faster it runs from you.
    Stand still, effortlessly still,
    and it’s right at your fingertips.

    “Chasing love.” – sugar and sandalwood

  • Memories

    Memories

    Reels of film
    unravel
    in my mind.

    Moments lost,
    swept away
    by the hands of
    time.

  • Lost.

    Lost.

    Yesterday, I got lost.
    But,
    I didn’t realize it until I
    reached my destination. Somehow,
    I got to where I was going
    without a map —

    my phone died,
    I couldn’t recognize any strangers
    on the sidewalk with faces
    that looked like they knew
    where they were going either.

    But,
    I’m sure they arrived where they’d intended,
    just as I did, and
    I’m sure, like me,
    they’d had no idea
    they were even trying
    to get somewhere
    in the first place,
    or that they were even

    lost.

    “Lost.” – bem

  • Bathing.

    Bathing.

    Last night, I bathed for the first time.
    It was a beautiful, porcelain bathtub with
    silver claw feet.
    Inside it, I reclined.

    I rubbed the soap across my skin
    with sponges and soaked in salt and
    exhaled,
    surrounded by vanilla candles, lit
    and the fresh, cool spring air wafted in through
    the window – I inhaled.

    Then I climbed out of the porcelain tub,
    dried myself off, sauntered
    over to the window,
    drew the curtains, and
    pulled open the window further and
    found the entire neighborhood was sparkling
    clean.

    “Bathing.” – bem

  • Ablaze.

    Ablaze.

    That night in the deep, dark
    woods, she woke up in her tent,
    aroused by the heat.

    She unzipped and stepped outside,
    finding herself surrounded –
    Ablaze – the trees were
    like a circle of hell
    from the soil to the sky,
    nowhere for her to find solace except
    looking upward to the deep
    navy sky.

    “Run.”
    Gulping the steaming hot air,
    she sprinted through the flames —
    with open arms and palms and face still to the sky —

    she burst out the other side:

    gold stardust surrounded by midnight,
    reformed and dancing with the fireflies.
    Casting new shapes and shadows against
    the cool, damp ground.

    Contained in the blaze,
    she’d rushed through the flames and
    emerged, glittering and brand new.
    Cleansed.
    Courage numbing her as she shed her
    old skin, which crumbled and dusted in ashes
    beneath her gilded
    footsteps.

    “Ablaze.” – bem