She asked, "Do I believe in seraphims?"

Happiness has always felt like an unattainable dream.

She said, “Everything around us is tidal,

so stop second-guessing every moment.

And it is okay for you to want to go

back home, to a place where you know

you are loved.”

 

All I ever did was seek happiness.

 

I have, more times than

I am willing to admit

​

Have found myself asking,

“How did I only feel it?”

​

She said, “Right person, wrong time is a thing—

it doesn’t make it any less real,

only less possible.”

​

The amber reflector on my 2010 Nissan Juke

Makes me think of how

Reality is nothing but a reflection

Of our thoughts and expectations.

What if we are merely reflections

In someone else’s mirror?

Am I prepared to look through

The mirror to discover the truth?

 

She said, "Everything I say is half the truth,

I am buried in snow, and I cannot open up

there is no blood here, but tread softly.”

​

I have no faith in anything I write.

All my writings are just a manifestation of

My gripe with life not ending in 2018.

 

She said, “I keep using the people around me

as forgetting agents.”

In some small way, you were

My universe is folding in on itself.

​

I have a small chase cam filming me

In third-person.

When I check the tape,

Just echoes and white noise

And a murky moment.

No future, if no one remembers,

Wholly absolved of all my guilt.

 

She said, “ If life had panned out differently

and I had not built so many corroded walls around me,

maybe I’d have found the words​

to tell you how you are my last

line of defense against my demons.”

​

I know you hate me

For not finding you sooner.

 

She said, “Holding your eyes,

I felt miles away wards

You made me love goodbyes, and

I never found the words

to tell you I wanted you to stay forever,”

 

You know I could never stay

where I wanted to

And love has always been violent.

Besides, when you are with me,

I know who you pretend I am.

 

She asked, “If I stripped away the million layers of cynicism,

You surround yourself with—

Am I the only one you will see?”

 

Abrasion, near swallow

on my neck,

All preying on a foreworn

All waiting in the wings

To perform the curtain line

on my life.

 

She said, “My ardour

In my arbour,

swallows still crowd over,

and when my taillights get soaked in a fog

I will record you a new apology.”

 

Lonesome fools who are convinced that

They will take their sufferings with them,

lean passively from a third-story balcony,

Only to wake up,

Under the same irritated sky,​

To a grief so marvelous

It blinds you when you get too close.

​

She said, “We all find our own happiness,

the present is but a dream”.