Bare branches are beautiful,

You don’t have to hide behind,

The vibrant mask of your leaves,

For me darling.


Just because,

You are afriad that they will judge,

Doesn’t mean,

That I will.

Writer’s Words

They took my words from me,

The only thing I thought they couldn’t.




But did they?


My mouth formed the shape of words,

And my vocal cords whispered the vowels.


My brain spun new poetry,

And my fingers attached themselves to a pen.


Did they?


I think not,

Because you can never separate,

A writer from her words.


Grief can harden them,

And anger can make them red hot,

But you never can take a writer’s words,


And so you can never take away mine,

Because I am a writer,

Even if you never saw it.




The sad part about losing you,

Was that you lost me first,

And I not only lost you,

I lost sleep,





Inside jokes,


And myself somehow.


People change,

Were you really such a big part of my life,

Less than a year ago?

Because you are such a stranger now,

And it doesn’t even hurt,

To know that.