How Important is mental health to you?


My isolation doesn't require a simple response. 

Ask the follow up question. 

"How are you?"

"How are you really?" 

I think most of us are afraid of the response. 

Don't be. 

It's okay to not be okay. 

It's okay to feel overwhelmed, 





We put too much focus and attention 

about our overall appearance to those around us. 

Stop right there. 

Don't be afraid of how you may be perceived due to your sadness. 

Sadness is not permanent, but it can be without changes. 

Sadness has become part of my passage. 

My voyage. 

And my journey consists of a several emotions, 

half of which I have not been able to fully understand or comprehend. 

However, my mental health is more important to me,

and it doesn't require your sympathy, either. 

I'm okay with not being okay. 

I'm okay with feeling overwhelmed,




and drained. 

I realized I was putting too much focus and attention 

on pretending to be okay, 

instead of actually working towards that happiness that I am in search of. 

Ask the follow up question. 

"How are things?" 

"How are things really?" 

The truth is, most of us won't initially say how we really feel 

about any given situation. 

It is in our nature to stay guarded. 

To protect ourselves. 

Break down that barrier. 

If you need help, ask for it. 

If you want respect, demand it. 

If you need love, pray for it. 

How important is your mental health to you? 

Are you willing and able to self reflect 

and self evaluate? 

Can you acknowledge your role in all given scenarios:

 whether it be with family,


or a relationship?

Have you made peace with your mistakes 

and your shortcomings? 

Are you willing to fail in order to later succeed? 

My isolation doesn't require a simple or candid response. 

Ask me the question. 

"How are you?"

"How are you really?" 

I'm not okay, but I have a feeling I will be. 

Photography By:   @mymomcallsmecam  

I'm Still...


  I have no idea what you could possibly want from me. 

After all this time, I’m still unsure. 

I’m still timid. 

I’m still undecided. 

I’m still just as confused as I was last year. 

I have no idea what you could possibly see in me. 

We fight. 

We disagree. 

We don’t really argue, 

but we don’t really say anything either. 

After all this time, I’m still nervous. 

I’m still trying. 

I'm still trying to impress you. 

I'm still trying to woo you.

I’m still hoping I can be everything that you could want and need. 

But you hurt me. 

You hurt me without even realizing it. 

You can come off so abrasive and harsh, 

without warning or any inclination. 

I don't deserve it. 

I'm not your punching bag.

You say things without understanding that they resonate with me. 

Your words can cut deep, like a short but sharp blade. 

The blood starts rushing, gushing, pouring. 

I can't stop the bleeding. 

And suddenly,

I begin to question everything. 

The things I know, 

the things I had hoped for, 

the things I had dreamed of. 

You make me question everything.


Why can’t you just let me in? 

Why can't you just let me all the way in? 

Not even a little? 

It’s not fair. 

I tell you when I’m hurt or anxious and you just don’t tell me anything. 

How are we supposed to evolve? 

How are we supposed to grow?

 How are we supposed to heal – if you don’t let me in? 

Sometimes I just feel so close to you,

 and at other times it’s like I barely know you.

But I’m not your punching bag anymore.

You can’t just throw blow after blow without any backlash. 

Without any reasoning. 

Or without any consequence.

Take your gloves off.

Relax your hands. 

Ease your mind.

And just breathe.

I’m not your enemy. 

I’m not your opponent. 

I’m your friend. 

And even though I have no possible idea what you could want from me, 

I love you. 

I'm still here.

And after all this time, you should just know. 

Photography By: 

The pages of my head


  I’ve become like ripped pages out of a journal. 

Blank thoughts, 

empty spaces, 

crossed out paragraphs 

and a total lack of inspiration. 

I have so much to say. 




Theories about love and peace

Ideologies about time and space. 

But each page gets torn out, 

crinkled up, and tossed into the trash. 

My safe haven no longer brings me peace, sanctuary. 

I can’t seek refuge or salvation in this house. 

So what do I do? 

Where do I go? 

What can I say? 

I just sit there reluctantly staring at the clock,

as I smack the pen across the top corner of the page. 

This empty, 

dotted lined, 

single-spaced page.

 I used to be able to relate to my thoughts, 

now they seem like a distant relative who I’m no longer in touch with. 

Yet, I can’t escape it either. 

These feelings,

 these emotions, 

this mental state.

I think I doubt you and your intentions, 

because I doubt myself. 

I worry that you will always want more. 

Something more than me. 

Something more than I can offer. 

I don’t know why I feel like that.

 At times it’s as if we’re the closest we’ve ever been: 



*bites lip* God, physically 

and then suddenly it’s as if I don’t know you at all. 

Is it supposed to be this rocky? 

This constant back and forth? 

I think we’re both caught up in a rut of what we want and where we are. 

I think maybe I’m too screwed up to get into another relationship. 

Maybe it’s just not in my deck of cards anymore. 

Maybe I’m not the ace that I thought I was. 

Maybe I’m just another number, like one through ten. 

Maybe I’m not special. 

So I continue to stare at this page, 

with so much I could say and instead I just close the journal. 

It's time to start letting my actions speak.  

Photography By:  



I'm always writing about someone else. 

Caring about someone else. 

Thinking about someone else. 

Worrying about someone else. 

Praying about someone else. 

I wish someone would write about me. 

Care about me. 

Think about me, every once in awhile. 

Worry about me, even if it was only a little. 

Pray about me and for me. 

Just maybe. 

And maybe I could get my way. 

Just once. 

One single moment where everything is exactly as 

I imagined it in my head. 

I wouldn't have to shed one tear. 

I wouldn't have to fidget with my nails. 

I wouldn't be checking my phone frequently. 

It could just be my moment. 

My day. 

Just maybe. 

And maybe I could get the guy. 

Just once.

One single opportunity that I'm actually the one he wants. 

The first time and only time. 

It could just be my moment. 

But it's not. 

And it never is. 

And I wish I would just stop hoping that it would be. 

Because one minute I feel like I can do anything and 

be everything that you want and need, 

and the next minute it's as if I never mattered to you. 

You never cared. 

And I'm just stuck with these thoughts and dreams of who you and I could be 

and could we ever be together, 

but it's hopeless. 

So maybe. 

Just maybe,

I'll get over you. 

And the idea of you which has now been tainted in my head. 

I hope one day, I can stop loving you.

I'll stop writing about you. 

I'll stop caring about you. 

I'll stop thinking about you. 

I'll stop worrying about you. 

I'd stop praying about you and for you. 

Just maybe I could get my way. 

 Photography By: mindofkhalil 




I guess I just thought I meant more to you. 

There was a time where we could tell each other things, 

and now we just don’t say anything. 

I mean I guess I can’t be mad, right? 

I don’t say anything and you don’t say anything. 

We are both completely comfortable in our silence. 

Well, maybe I’m not exactly comfortable as I am content. 

I am starting to recognize that if we meant more to each other, 

we would do better and frankly, we just don’t. 

It makes me sad to think about. 

My eyes begin to water, 

my cheeks start to feel warm, 

and suddenly I’m vulnerable again. 

I stay silent in my pain because to me, 

it’s not worth mentioning or dwelling over. 

It is what it is, unfortunately. 

However, I can’t help but wonder – is this my fault? 

The reason we can’t speak, the reason we don’t. 

Do I make it difficult? 

Sometimes I feel like I do, 

but then I find myself feeling clingy or attached to someone who doesn’t want to be 

and then I back off quickly and abruptly. 

You can understand that right? 

Why I feel the way that I do? 

You don’t even read these so what’s the point? 

Like I said, I guess I just thought I meant more to you. 

And it sucks, because I feel like I know I do. 

But then other times I just feel like another girl to you. 

I think I have to stop writing about you because 

if we meant more to each other, 

we would do better 

and frankly, we just don’t. 

Photography By: @spencer_charles 

Then and Now, Now and Then


 "I think I love this picture so much because of how happy you look. 

I go through a lot of our photographs together, but nothing beats that smile on your gorgeous face. 

Today, I will mourn for you but not tomorrow. 

Tomorrow will mark a 3 year anniversary of your suicide. 

Not a single day goes by that I don't wish I could have been there to stop you and 

tell you how much that I love you and how much I need you in my life. 

But I didn't, but I hope that you already knew that, and a lot more. 

I feel you in the wind outside as it gently crosses my cheek, 

in my own laughter, 

in the words of a song, 

and in the smiles of the people that I love.

 I see you, 

I hear you. 

Some people said to me that I should have been a better friend, 

and I am here to say that I should have been. 

You deserved a lot more than what was just apparent. 

Tomorrow and most days are hard without you, 

but I want to celebrate you and all that you had given me in such a short time. 

Over the span of a 14 year friendship, 

I want to say thank you for being the best part of my life and of me. 

I love you." 

I wrote this in May of 2015. 

Do you know how closely I hold those words to me. 

Throughout every moment in my life, you have always been my center. 

When we were kids, you always made me feel loved, 


worthy of everything that is good. 

You were and are the true definition of loyalty. 

When almost everyone that I knew and was close too gave up on me. 

You were there. 

You were there when I needed you the most. 

And as horrible as this may seem, I can't say the same. 

I don't believe that I was there when you needed me the most. 

That's what really hurts. 

My guilt lies alongside my pride. 

I was too proud to admit that I was wrong. 

I was too stubborn to admit that I was hurt. 

I carry that cross now. 

Unfortunately, that's my burden to bear now. 

But I hope that God knows how precious you are to me. 

I hope he tells you in vivid detail how much you mean to me. 

I hope he shows you everyday how much that I miss you. 

I hope he truly represents how much that I love you. 

If you have lost someone to suicide, please join me this weekend for the Out of the Darkness Washington DC Walk.

For more information, please visit and register at  

Seconds, Minutes, Hours and Days


  Did you know that there are 1,440 minutes in a day.

 Which then turns into 10,080 minutes in a week – 

How many of these minutes do you spend in your head and not in the real world? 

I can seriously answer that question with a blank stare. 

At least 77% of my time is spent wandering through the current wavelengths that embodies my mind. 

I couldn’t really begin to tell you why or how. 

I just know. 

I feel like I’ve developed some sort of sickness. 

It’s a sickness because I have no idea what I’m doing when I’m with you. 

Half the time I’m just wingin’ it, 

going with the flow, 

but at the same time I’m questioning every choice of action in hopes and constant worry that it’s the right one. 

This has become a sickness to my mental state because the very second I leave you, I feel broken – as if something’s missing. 

Like I forgot my keys on the kitchen counter as I left the house in the morning. 

It’s a strange and unexplainable feeling. 

I get in my head so much about you because I love where we are and I don’t want to push you away again. 

I constantly feel like I am walking on eggshells when I’m with you, 

but that’s only because my foot is also in my mouth when I speak to you. 

So pardon me and my constant awkward state. 

The reason I spend so much time in my head is 

because everyday I am still trying to process this: 

how did we get back here?

why did you come back? 

was it just a figment of my imagination?

is our chemistry real or something that I’ve made up in my head?

 why do I feel like you love me? 

Ugh, so many questions and yet I’ve never been more calm or relaxed before in my life. 

It’s like I said, a strange and yet this unexplainable feeling. 

I’m happy. 

Even though I don’t know for sure what we are, 

what we’re doing 

or if we even have a future –

I’m the happiest I’ve ever been when I’m with you. 

As selfish as it sounds, I don’t really need to establish any type of certainty, at least not yet – because I’m happy. 

And well, would you want to spend those 1,440 minutes of your day happy, 

or at least more than half of 10,080 minutes in love?

Yeah, I think I’ll be just fine. 

Photography By: 

Where do we go from here


 As the sun begins to set, 

I feel the heat warm up the left side of my cheek and I think of you. 

I think about where you might be, 

maybe with who, 

but most importantly if you’re happy. 

If you are living through each day with your head held high, because you deserve it. 

If it’s anyone I’ve ever known who deserves to be completely, totally and utterly happy – its you. 

It’s always been you. 

I lie awake at night counting down the seconds, minutes, hours until I can start the day. 

I need to keep myself preoccupied because if I don’t – well, you consume all of my thoughts. 

The last thing I need to be is left alone with my thoughts.

It’s already difficult for me to express how I feel, 

let alone deal with the empty spaces and empty pages that only you can fill. 

I finally admitted it to you. 

I can’t believe I did that. 

I am left completely vulnerable to my own words. 

My own feelings.

Now, where do we go from here. 

We had a moment, a bad moment together. 

I didn’t like it, it didn’t make me feel good. 

It didn’t sit well in the pit of my stomach, and I know it didn’t for you. 

I have to be cautious around you. 

Not in the sense of I can’t be myself, but I just have to remember that you and I – well we’re working on things. 

And if we’re working, that means it’s not just me anymore. 

That includes you. 

All of you. 

Whether you are with me and in my immediate presence or not. 

I hate how we really don’t tell each other how we feel, 

I mean we do and yet we don’t. 

Sometimes we say it in a passive or joking manner, but it isn’t without seriousness. 

I’m just so confused about you. 

What to do with you, how to approach you, 

how to just speak to you when I really want too. 

I just don’t really know anymore. 

So where do we go from here?

Photography By:  afarmerphoto96 

I wouldn't call it goodbye


I didn’t want to get to this part.

The part where we fight. 

The part where we don’t see eye to eye. 

The part where we are both talking and not listening. 

The part where words are flown around without any real meaning, no definition. 

The part where I can’t express how I feel without collapsing. 

The part where I can’t see our future anymore. 

The future that once seemed possible, plausible. 

The part where I feel like I can’t do this to you, or to me. 

The part where I feel like I need to let you go. 

I didn’t want to get to this part. 

Can we just stay in a space where we both learn from each other. 

Grow together. 

Heal together. 

Can we just stay in a space where we are just laughing for hours 

or cuddling all day on a lazy Sunday. 

Can we just stay in a space where I want you 

and you want me just the same. 

Why can’t we get to that part? 

Maybe it’s me. 

Maybe it’s you. 

Maybe it’s this. 

This situation that we put ourselves in.

Because I want the sky 

And you want the moon and the stars. 

But I’d give up my dreams of the sky if that could mean it would realign with yours. 

How did we get to this part? 

I didn’t want to get to this part. 

I prayed about it. 

I thought about it. 

I dreamed about it. 

And now, I don’t want to say goodbye - so I won’t. 

You are you. 

I am me. 

We are who we are. 

We can’t be anything else but that. 

So I guess we should just live out our dreams and see if our hopes and ideas eventually meet. 

Photography By: mindofkhalil

One Last Time


  Dear Mphatso (Pronounced *pot-so*), 

I miss you. 

I miss you everyday and that shit hurts. 

That shit hurts because I just want to talk. 

But I can’t, so instead I’ll write it out to you. 

I want to listen to your advice just one last time. 

I want to hear your mind calculate, hard at work with how you process, analyze and evaluate the crazy shit storm that is my life. 

I want to tell you about this boy who’s got my world spinning at 360 degrees always. 

I want to tell you that I’m scared. 

I’m scared because he’s got a part of me. 

A part of me that only he has. 

A part of me that only he has been able to unlock.

 A part of me that only he can unleash. 

Do you get that? 

Do you understand that feeling?

 Have you had that feeling? 

When you can’t shake the constant feeling of just pure restlessness.

 I’m restless because I haven’t slept in months. 

I’m restless because I can never get just one moment of peace without you on my mind. 

I can never stop myself from wondering where you are, what you’re doing and if you’re happy. 

I’m restless because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you. 

I’m restless because I await patiently until the next opportunity I get to show you how much I care,

 how much I want this to work, 

how much I want you. 

I’m restless because I’ve been running scared. 

Running scared from the idea of you. 

Running scared from you. 

Running scared from this. 

Running scared from us. 

A good friend asked me, “well, what if he feels the same way?” 

Is it sad and pathetic that the actual possibility of you accepting me and my love never crossed my mind?

 I just wanted you to know. 

It never occurred to me that you could feel the same way. 

I didn’t want it too. 

I didn’t want to become hopeful again. 

You know, like I was before. 

Because I let myself get close to you the last time and you walked away from me. 

I’m not saying that I didn’t deserve it. 

I’m just saying it broke me. 

All of me. 

Piece by piece. 

Inch by inch. 

Every part of me longed for you. 

Every part of me missed you. 

Every part of me loved you. 

I cried about you more in a year than I ever have in my entire life. 

Like I had said before I never knew what it meant to genuinely be down and out about a person every single day. 

Just hearing your name brought up in conversation, 

the sound of your voice, 

your captivating blue eyes would just set my whole world back on fire. 

Have you been here, Mphatso? 

Can you help me? 

Because I don’t know what to do anymore.

 I don’t know where to go from here. 

I need my friend.

I need my sister.

I think I need you now more than I ever have before. 

Can you lead me? 

Because wherever you go, I’ll follow. 

Can you point me in the right direction? 

Because I know you know which way is up. 

I just miss you. 

And I really just wish I could hear your advice one last time. 

I guess we retreat



You always do this. 


Just when things are actually going our way. 

You retreat. 

Back to square one we go. 

Back to basics. 

Back to our old ways. 

Back to our old traditions. 

Back to our old customs. 

It’s like you begin to panic because you actually can see a real future with me. 

Why does that scare you so much? 

I mean I can see it. 

I can picture us together, like actually together. 

Waking up together. 

Making breakfast together. 

Watching our favorite anime shows together. 

Listening to music together. 

All of it. 

I can see our potential, so why can’t you? 

Is it me? 

Do I come on too strong? 

Do I make you retreat? 

I just want to know. 

I don’t want to get too close to you again and then you just pull away from me. 

It’s not fair to me. 

To want you this much and you just – do what you always do. 


Back into a corner. 

I don’t want you to feel trapped, cramped, like I’m in your space without consent. 

Do I make you feel like that? 

Maybe I should retreat. 

Back into a corner. 

Because I don’t want to feel trapped. 

And yet at the same time I do, because it’s never a trapped feeling when I am with you. 

I feel you. 

I feel your love. 

I feel your attention.

 I feel your affection. 

So why do you want to retreat? 

I’m waving my white flag as a means of surrender. 

I’ve given all my love to you and that's all that I can give. 

I can’t give you anymore. 

This thing that we’re doing. 

I surrender to you.

 I surrender my compassion, strength, and resistance to you.

 I just want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. 

But maybe what you want just doesn’t include me. 

So then stop. 

Stop making me believe that it does. 

Stop making me hopeful. 

Stop making me second guess who I am as a woman and who I am to you. 

So this time, I guess we should both retreat. 

Back to square one we go.

Back to our old ways. 

Back to our old traditions. 

Back to our old customs. 

Retreat to your safety net, and I’ll retreat to mine. 

"Because every time I think you’re being straight with me and 

I think I understand you – and we just go right back around.” 

 Photography By: 

A Love Sonnet


I love you. 

I love who I am when I am with you. 

I love the sound of your voice when you sing a high-note off key. 

I love when your hair gently falls in front of your face after you’ve showered. 

I love when you start to dance in your kitchen when you think nobody is watching. 

I love when you make me a fresh cup of coffee in the morning. 

I love when we listen to music together and analyze each song. 

I love when you teach me. 

I love your sky blue eyes and how they touch every part of me with just a mere glance.

I love the way you look at me, it’s as if you are seeing me for the first time. 

I loved our first date. 

I loved our second. 

I love your laugh. 

I love how you always know how to make me laugh.

I love when you let me in and break down your walls. 

I love how soft your lips are when they meet mine. 

I love how our bodies intertwine like stems to a bushel of flowers. 

I love when your hands grip onto my waist, thighs and you how you hold me with complete strength. 

I love you even when I’m mad at you. 

I love you even when I don’t want to talk to you. 

I love you even when I’m sad just thinking about you. 

I love you even though I’m almost certain that you don’t really love me. 

I love you because of how driven you are.

I love you because of how confident you are.

I love you because of how stubborn you are. 

I love you because of how hard you work. 

& I think I’ve always loved you. 

I think I always will. 

I fell in love with you. 

I love you because of who you are. 

I love you because I now know what love is. 

Photography By:  @i_am_him__  

Harsh Realities


  Have you ever experienced a harsh reality? 

You know when the reality kicks in that everything isn’t what you thought it was or what you had intended it to be. 

I went through this occurrence this past weekend. Sometimes people mean the best, but their words cut deep like a knife. 

 When someone tells you the truth or their perspective on a situation, it can be difficult to hear and even more painful to comprehend.  

I’m sure this man had the best of intentions, but his execution was hard to swallow. 

The harsh reality followed into a moment of complete confusion, exhaustion and open-ended questions. 

Because the reality of the situation is: 

What are we? 

Do you have any idea? 

What are we doing? 

Do I mean anything to you at all? 

And if I don’t, then should I walk away? 

Do you love me? 

Can I walk away? 

Can I be strong enough this time to stay away for good? 

Sometimes the answers to these questions are what makes these realities we face so harsh. 

The harsh reality that we may not be right for each other. 

The harsh reality that if you wanted me then you would show it, right? 

The harsh reality that even after everything I still want you. 

The harsh reality that I'm too afraid to say I love you. 

I constantly put my feelings in the back of my mind as a means of self-preservation. 

I think my worst fear is that if I did actually tell you how I felt, and you still didn’t love me – well wouldn’t that be the harshest reality.  

Photography By:  @mymomcallsmecam 

At a Crossroads: Which Path Would you take


 Have you ever been at a crossroads in your life? 

A standstill?

Have you been in a position where you were offered a do-over, re-do, or another opportunity to do something differently – would you take it? 

I found myself here.

I found myself with another chance to start over with you. 

However, you start to recognize a familiar pattern: the early warning signs, the messages, the phone calls, and suddenly it hits you – you’ve been here before. You’ve been exactly here with this person. If you could change or alter the circumstances in which you two met, interacted, maybe even fell in love or fell out of love – would you? I find myself asking these questions a lot more than I would have ever anticipated. Because there you are. You came back and now I’m at a standstill in the middle of two roads. I know that I love you and that my heart finds comfort, solace, gratitude, lust and joy within you. 

On the other hand, I’m hesitant. Often distant at times, hard to reach, and unable to communicate or properly express to you how I feel and what I feel about you. 

Has anyone else experienced this? 

In front of me is a man who makes me feel so many different things at once that I don’t even know what to make sense of it. 

I wonder if he knows. 

I wonder if he can sense my feeling of queasy, uneasiness around him. 

I wonder if he can see how my face lights up after he brews me fresh cup of coffee the morning after, every giggle or in my case cackle, every gentle touch, when he stops, pauses before taking the keys out of the ignition, and proceeds to dance in the car with me. 

I wonder. 

Truth be told: I’m at a crossroads primarily with myself. I never told him the truth. I never expressed my deep love and admiration for who he is as a person. For the man that he has become. How could I now? So much time has passed and even though he’s here – I’m often hesitant, distant at times, hard to reach and always unable to communicate or properly express to you how I feel and what is it that I feel about you. I thought I had been in love before, maybe I was in the sense of having actual love for a person. But I had never really been in love until I met you. As cliché as this sounds, I knew from the very first moment I spent with you. In fact, I have a scar from our first date, (quite literally) it never healed and neither did my heart. 

When I lost you the first time, I ached for you. I had never done that before. Sure, we all get upset when things don’t go our way, or when a relationship or friendship quickly crashes and proceeds to burn shamelessly, but I didn’t realize what it meant to genuinely every single day be down and out about a person. I was knee-deep in my sadness, and then I had a moment. 

A moment of silence. 

A moment of clarity. 

A moment of acceptance.

 There’s a quote that I love from this movie titled 17 Again, “If I love you, I should let you move on.” Sometimes we have to let the people we love move on, even if that means without us. I had to stop being selfish. I had to reflect and say to myself, “if it was meant to be – it would be, and maybe it just isn’t.” As soon as I had let myself become content with the idea of you not being here: there you are. I write these words with a heavy, happy and apprehensive mind. I had only phathomed your return. I pictured myself taking each road and considering each possible outcome, but yet I still haven’t moved. I want to tell you the truth, but I’m so happy that you’re here that I don’t want to push you away again. Maybe that’s selfish, but even if he is here for all the wrong reasons – he still came back. And now that he’s back…let’s just say if you were me and you had my two choices, two paths – you would know why it’s so hard to determine which path to take.

Photography By: 

I wouldn't call it a poem



I’ve been thinking a lot lately about you and what it is that you mean to me. 

Lately, I can’t describe it – but I hate it. 

I hate feeling like I can’t fully be myself because I’ve been in denial. 

Denial about you. 

Denial about you and me. 

Denial about what it is we are to each other. 

I have so many questions for you. 

And yet I stay silent always. 

I can’t help it. 

I’m so afraid of you. 

I'm afraid of you and the way you make me feel. 

I’m afraid of the feeling that you have always given me – hope. 

You make me feel like I can do anything or be anything that I want to be. 

Openly and effortlessly. 

Yet I stay reserved, timid. 

I can’t let you know how I feel because it’s too dangerous. 

It’s dangerous because I have a discerning intuition that you don’t feel the same. 

I’m afraid of that rejection, but on the other-hand I await it. 

Why is that? 

I think it’s because you’ve always seemed too good to be true. 

How every part of my body gets chills when I prepare to see you. 

How I can easily place my hand on my stomach and feel the butterflies swirling around in circles. 

How I physically have to fight the urge to smile at you when you poke fun at me and my annoying quirks. 

How I have to force myself not look into your ocean blue eyes that contain a hint of lime green right in the center which has always kept me perfectly aligned. 

I guess I just wanted more. 

I wanted more for us. 

And I wanted us more than I wanted anything. 

Now, I’m not so sure. 

It could be my fear, 

It could be my doubts.

It could be my worries about how you might act and react. 

But really I know it’s this feeling in my head that maybe it really is too good to be true. 

I would love to call you mine, even if it was just for a day. 

And yet I stay silent as always. 

Photography By: Marcus Carter



I'm so fucking mad. 

Mad at myself mostly for allowing you to become my center. 


When I was never yours. 

Why do we do this? 

Why do we over analyze and over compensate for the lack of love and attention we want to receive? 

Maybe, it has nothing to do with us.

 I once wrote, "maybe we shouldn't be mad at the people we love, because maybe they were never taught how to love properly." I still believe that to be true, but I've also seen my own parents. Both products of broken homes and still manage to give an abundance of compassion, kindness, and love to all those they encounter. Let's not justify bad behavior, but rather understand and recognize your own value. I fail to do this time and time again. I let myself become completely consumed with the idea that I need to be and seem perfect. I'm not and most people can see that, but I try to hide my self-doubt in the best way that I can. I guess we all do - don't we? We all want to give off a perception that we have everything together and if not, it's a slow work in progress. For me, I wish that were true. In all other aspects of my life it seems like I've finally gotten back on the right track and then you show up. 

Suddenly, I feel weak and powerless again. 

Suddenly, I feel like I'm unworthy. 

Suddenly, I feel like maybe I don't deserve good things. 

I'm so fucking mad. 

Mad at you too. 

Mainly for crashing into my world like nothing I had ever seen before.

For making everything with us so damn complicated. 

I'm so tired of trying to make you see me. 

Trying to make you value me. 

Trying to make you appreciate me. 

Trying to make you love me. 


When you never did. 

So why do I keep doing this? 

Not a Poem, Just a Memory


 It was one of those days.
It was a best friend day.
You know the days: where you and your best friend or friends just enjoy every second of the comfort, insanity,
and the melodramatic cinema matinee showing that is your friendship.
Catering to it, immersing in it - but not in the bad ways, in every good way.
That means having your favorite foods present, retail therapy and of course the rom com's that everybody sheds a tear at.
We had one of those days, I was feeling sad and you let me wallow.
You protected me from my sadness, you didn't let it overwhelm me.
You listened to me and my crazy theories about relationships and why they don't work out.
I could tell that you were sad but you tried to bury it.
You and I, that's what we did.
We stayed silent in our pain.
We didn't have too, we could've fought it. Fought it out loud.
I know that now.
Instead, we did what we loved.
We sang our hearts out.
We danced, well you danced and I swayed off key, off beat.
We laughed so hard we'd cry.
We laughed so hard, we almost forgot that the world was a lesser place than we had hoped it would be.
We made each other laugh.
It was like we were when we were just kids on the playground.
You knew me, and I knew you.
We had each other, we were untouchable.
Goofing off, enjoying the moment.
Like we could just stay kids for one more day.
I didn't know it would be one of our last moments together.
If I had known that...
What would I say?
Would it, could it ever be what you gave to me? 

My Tribute to You

 "I loved her. 

I loved her so much. 

And I ask her everyday why she did what she did, but I get no answers. 

She took those with her when she left. Leaving me, leaving all of us - angry, empty and confused. 

And I know that hurt won't ever go away, but there will come a day where I don't feel it everyday. 

And the anger won't be so hot. 

And the other feelings will fade. 

And I'll be left with only love. 

A good friend once said, "I can love you and still let you go." 

So Hannah, I love you and I let you go. 

I miss you. 

And I hope that wherever you go next, you feel peace, you feel safe. 

In a way that you never did here.

Wherever you go next, I hope you know that I love you." 

- Clay, 13 Reasons Why