Miseries Company

I think hell is something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go.

Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being in love, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

when you thought you was good then that anxiety hit

when you finally get over that anxiety but then that depression hit

when they both hit you at the same time

No one can hurt you as badly as the people you love.

“Oh so now you sorry??! You sure as hell wasn’t sorry when..”

Please stop making me hate you more and love you less..

I wish I had someone I could call without feeling guilty. Someone I could tell about my day, about the annoying rubric change, about the weird things going on in my head, the poems I’m thinking about writing      and they would listen and care and tell me about how their cat has gone to throwing up in their shoes, and the way the fall leaves make them feel, about how hard it’s been lately.        We could both share, and feel heard we could both listen, and feel understood.     I just want a connection that doesn’t feel one sided.