It is not an easy replacement
of food over love.
While desserts are a delight to my tongue
(and so has your kisses),
And soup can warm my belly
(as your hand on it can do),
food will never pay me a compliment
or stare at me deliciously.
Falling in love with food is a one-sided affair…
which is what ours has become.
To be frank, it took a while
for me to be the Bigger person,
to acknowledge that the
part I played in our destruction
may have been small,
but that maybe it ate at you,
chip by chip.
And for a time, I just got so
tired of picking up the pieces
of our brokenness and
sweeping them under the
rug of my shame—
my shame of never having
to keep things whole, to
see every love story
play out to its worst ending.
But once I allowed myself to be happy
that you had found the person
who steadied your intrepid heart,
I realized that I could rest easier at night,
knowing one less broken-hearted soul
and hoping that when I finally get it right,
it will have all been worth it.
I want to seem to have things figured out
so that it’s easy for you to run to me
without hesitation.
And before you even see my tears,
they’ve all dried out
so that I can offer you a sunny day
with conviction.
Even though I’m not as put together
as I’m perceived to be,
you’ll never have to face
that side of me.
Someday, when you’re okay
I’ll tell you my story.
Not because I want your pity,
but because everyone goes through
something.
We have our own cross to carry.
When you say,
“Let’s wipe the slate clean,”
does that mean
we throw everything away?
Because yes,
we made a mess.
But it was a fabulous riot
of proportions hard to forget.
So do we just let
all those go?
I say No.
No to keeping things all
neat and clean
and in boxes.
Every day, I uncover more of you.
As I go through your mess
and you go through mine,
I find more and more things
to love about us.
Yes to this ruckus.
It would’ve helped if I knew from the get-go
that I wasn’t the one you saw yourself with down the line.
You were the only plan I have…I had.
You have been running after me,
and I’ve been running after you.
It’s always been this crazy chase
a race made for two.
I’ve been growing tired
But to stop, I’m afraid to do.
What if you are running away
And I’m just chasing after you?
We are standing on the precipice
of something truly spectacular.
The compelling anticipation is
almost too much to bear.
And eyes have seen and lips have spoken
a future both bright and quite fragile
So I must wait with steadfast faith,
with deliberate care.
I picture your face as I draw breaths,
willing patience as you to come to the
inevitable conclusion of which
I am fully aware.
We are a union made to exceed
the vastness of all universes.
Take my hands, hold my heart, dear
Let me take you there.
This was our bench
in the middle of the park
where I’d lay on your lap,
reading a book
as you shielded my eyes
from the sun.
This was our tree
where you carved our initials.
You’d strum your guitar
and I’d hum along
as we shared sandwiches
and wishes.
This was our bed
with your sweat and saliva
on the pillow.
I’d bury my nose in it,
your scent made me
dizzy with delight.
This was our life
and it was just ours
before it was any one else’s.
Once upon a time,
I had your heart
before it was any one else’s.
Make Room for Poetry 
Remembering
For the beautiful stories you’ve woven
through your words and works of art;
For the people whose days have been
brighter because of you—thank you!
It is late, and how I feel I’ve been robbed,
by your passing
because you shared your light,
even when at times you had very little
to keep for yourself.
*A brief pause from my usual love poems to say thank you to those who have left the world all too quickly.