roses infinity

depression does not stop existing

even when you find love

even when someone is holding you

with two strong arms

kissing you all over

saying: baby,I'm so sorry it took so long

but I'm here

I'm finally here.

i smile and feel safe inside his arms
the way he adores me seems to melt away
the pain
seems to calm the storms inside my chest 
Is this what love is? Healing laced with grace

depression will stay 
but it won't hurt the same 

I feel so safe, it's like you scare the demons away.

The same way you protect me 
from the men who prey when we go out on dates
I've managed to defend myself my whole life. 
But I've prayed and fasted for a man who would defend me and protect me, 
as if I was an irreplaceable crown,
like the jewel I know I am.

I prayed for this one trillion nights.

I begin to believe you when you tell me you've waited your whole life
for this moment
for me.
Your face tells me 
"Trust me"
So I trust with all my heart
Your touch shows me you need me
And my hands answer back 
I'm touching your face and my fingers are spelling out:
I need you too..but my god I want you!

Your glowing olive skin smells like peace and sandalwood
smells like amber, orchids and sweet mango trees overseas
you smell like the garden of eden 
before sin existed.You smell like love. 
Your smell reminds me of my favorite place. 
One I've never been to. I'm realizing now this place is you. 
Your mouth whispers to me tenderly 
your words could be anything
 but all I hear is a masterpiece,I hear symphonies.

I trust you. I love you. You don't know this yet but I'm telling you with my eyes everyday. I'll say it out loud when I get a little more brave.

All of my past loves were liars, actors, knock off versions of who I desire. 
But the heartbreak they caused was worth it.
The scars I wear now: remnants. 
from all the wars that led me to you. 

I would take every bit of the pain again
if that meant you would be there in the end.

All of my wounds brought me to you. 
my blood and tears were not in vain
they were seeds planted 
that grew from beneath the cracks in the concrete into flowers!
They are the single blossom on the top of an icy mountain. 
Against all odds: life is made 

And g-d does work all things together for the good.
Hallelujah for the battles. 

All the loss in my life, no longer centerpiece

From loving you: I have gained more than I knew existed or deserved.
Oh how I love grace.
No one compares to you.

I show him my wounds 
One by one
I undress my 
Pain for him 
I reveal my shame to him 

And he looks at me, like really looks at me...and his face is soft.. and his eyes still glow for me
despite how vulnerable i am. he looks at me  the way every woman wants to be looked at.
his face says it all...i feel a lifting.i sense a healing
but is it only a butterfly kiss band aid?
will this chase the darkness away?
I wonder 
But my god I believe in miracles 
So with all of my heart I wish for him to stay 
may it last forever
despite the wounds I hide underneath my bandages. 

every kiss of his is anointed. His lips are healing oil, heaven made medicine
he is the rain falling on California forest fires. 

My whole life flashed before my eyes when I met you. 
And I saw the future through the dim lights of the restaurant 
when we had our very first date.
And I barely ate! 

The future was filling me up.

My hope was rising from the ashes 

The stone was rolling away
My faith resurrected!
love soaring

Remember when this story started out? the theme was depression


Love is always the catalyst for something. Mostly it's pain 
But when it swings the other way
It's the catalyst for change.

Love is soaring for all of us 

There will be miracles here today


52 Cities Deep / And His Big Weep.


of THE chase-
the chase of all chases
the surrendering way,
you throw your hands up-

away from me.

i sway into the truth

you cover your ears
rejecting the news.

enough is enough

you chased my love
19 months

and when i say stop
you take it to heart.

The New York Post slides 
under my hotel room door
front page is your face-just for today
headline reads:
*bold font*
"the big star" with talent but in the end his pride ruins it all"
headline is:
"charming cliche of a man
chases a lovely woman 
catches her
tricks her
only to run away!
 after his tour extended past may.
(tour sales down despite  radio plays)

headline says:
" majority of charismatic men are all sad at night-
no matter how many fans they have!
the price of extroversion:
is pain!
the price of the lead role is:
and no one to call
when you feel like
like, for real this time"

the rise and fall of
whatever the hell that was
just late night calls and
static, so much static.

flash forward to you leaving
for a new pair of eyes

52 cities deep:
you will find a version of me,
In her.

A fever dream fantasy
you will seek

Flash forward to 2am
The south, about to enter REM

picture those haunted hallways 
where a woman's intuition
and her subconscious meet
(repeat repeat repeat)

I don't miss him because you can't miss a person who 
never really knew you
only the fantasy of you
that they crafted
based on what?
a cartoon?

i don't dream of him, ever.

i dream of heath ledger wearing a fisherman sweater on a pale beach
and the little mermaid when she gets her new feet.

9 cities later:
back to my replacement

Crystal ball says its a girl with a common middle name
a girl who is younger than me
with less sorrowing  in her eyes 
less words in her vocabulary
never left the Midwest
hasn't heard of Budapest 
you speak and she cheers
you ignore her and she
feels she's done something wrong
you're her sun
and she needs you now
to function
she's too young to know
that the cycle starts
with the chase
ends with the escape
the silence
the amnesia 
skip to 2 years later 
December in Ohio
"don't i know you from somewhere"
and he is honestly asking you this
because he is the sun
self appointed but
the sun

move on to the far east
its late spring
she's a college girl
less fight in her swing
less pain. fewer memories
fewer lives
fewer mistakes
maybe a girl who has a sister that's not dead
ans haunting her family
maybe her story is less heartbreak
less weeping
more singing
Wednesday night testimony girl
in a jean skirt
pretty face
big flirt

the winter you flew to Europe 
the winter you stopped calling your father
middle of nowhere on a train headed to Paris
you see her
and she is close to resembling me
just a little bit.

you open your mouth
to begin the game
the cycle is spinning
and she laughs in your face
she walks
and the daily mail
has given you a nickname now
one that you hate
headline says:
"you're looking weak"
they interview a nutritionist who speculates on your shrinking frame
"hollow eyes
lack of smile
pale complexion"   

headline reads:
"ALIVE but mostly dead"

And the women sitting outside of a cafe the morning of the headlines
you refuse to read from today
feel sorry for you.
feel happy they have boyfriends who love them 
in the purest way.
love without a timeline, without the seduction of fame

that's the thing about good women
we were born wearing our crowns
wisdom is our best friend
discernment is engraved in the bones of our bodies
our skin is made of prophetic cells
our hearts are homes for the holy spirit
and the love for babies and pale oceans

you write me to tell me
"i miss you. I'm lonely"
i read this and feel nothing.

i reply with the sunglass emoji.

you cursing the day we began
is how that conversation came to an end.

sometimes, i miss the wolves that used to chase me
but for the most part, I don't.

i know they will be back
for more heartbreak
a sad woman is worth more than a million happy ones
the currency of pain: to feel anything in a country so numb
is a delicacy
just a gram of her sadness
will cost you a piece of your soul but my god
it's worth it a thousand time over
like crack cocaine
they beg me for romance
knowing the high won’t stay
the comedown is coming
the sun is rising with the throbbing craving
for more
addicted to this second hand ache
still born stories of hope
laced in hate
a future we can’t hold
we can barley create
in the corners of the town that neither of us claim
curating heartbreak
calling it fate.

the sickness

All I wanted from you,

Was a man staring back at me 
like I was something he couldn't lose

So I rolled the dice
walked from The Chelsea Hotel to 159th

the years go by
i run,
you do not follow.
and just as the tears have dried
you come back
with a heavy sentiment
like the past was just a dream,like its not 2016
you confess that you still miss me,
with a familiar tenderness

you are dancing around our memories
like its holy ground
you begin to glorify my
and i remember this feeling
the pressure to be all that you want me to be
the idea
you challange me to shrink once more

i digress 

i think how in the world
is it you?

how did you come back to me?
is it fate or the way broken hearts form this addiction to pain

am i to be the villain in your narrative?
could you only be with me when i was sick
and young and crying all the time

now that i am strong
you seem to be unsure

the madness of static

The addicts that find me-

In the peace of the morning,
bathing in a soft white light.

Between the purity and the devotion to what is holy. 
I am nun like in December-and happy here alone. 

The Holy Spirit flows from my veins 
and he calls it magic. 

The high of the supernatural fuels his pursuit of me. 
He speaks of my spirit and he's manic
with tunnel vision he wants it
the addict is angry
Can't steal it
can't reach it
can't buy it off the street
Thinks I'm keeping secrets.
i speak of Jesus and he turns violent. 

 And I'm covered in black fabric 
in a forest like always/
Solitude in Tennessee

He calls me his future.
I watch his mouth move and I keep thinking...
"how insane!"

Addicted to the second hand smoke of
the Holy Ghost 

He is relentless,
and shifty 

still born stories of hope.

He speaks to me with 
Strange fantasies 
laced in hate
Paints me a picture of the future 
a future we can’t hold.

Calls me weeping says it's just withdrawals  
says he barley creates anymore 
says the lack of me is cruelty 
He needs the clouds
to think 
to feel alive 
to come close to peace
to sleep

The addict seeks me like an orphaned wolf-

He howls my name each night 
in the corners of this town
that neither of us claim

The wolf is busy:
curating heartbreak
calling it fate.



I feel it in my bones you're about to move...

In Lou of it all...I felt love my whole life-
Even when I longed for it.


eventually you get sick of the graveyards you visit
so you build new ones

this cycle goes on and on

gradually you leave the rituals
that kept you alive
alive just to mourn the dead
is no way to live.

with respect for the good ones gone:
let them fly. they have wings. they are the light in all things.

and for the rest of them:

let the dead bury the dead

listen to the soil

doing the job you thought was your own.


There is no shame in the early morning hours.
Moonlight on your pain:
The cleansing wax and wane.

How you would start a fire in the desert:
Sun on object-
light on body
fire on wound
burning the ache
into beautiful flames
(the reverse)
I am not ashamed of the moon on my back
I will not conceal my pain for you.

Your prayers are the sand scattered in the wind.

Does not kill you, i’m sorry.
Right before the glory, you will want to die.
Talking to yourself like you would a child:
Surely this was THE Desert, THE Dark Night.

And the sun says, Yes..
And the desert answers:
Your prayers are now sand scattered in wind/
The healing is here,it is all around you.

And beyond your decade long view-that exalted

The Glory rises/
The Kingdom comes.

The promise land you bled for: arrives with angels singing

Your prayers are the sand scattered in wind

The night always ends,
I'm sorry.

The glory wins
The glory wins
The glory wins

Your prayers are the sand scattered in wind.

Sadness is my boyfriend

"expect sadness
you expect rain.
cleanse you."



"Life and death, energy and peace. If I stop today, it was still worth it. Even the terrible mistakes that I made and would have unmade if I could. The pains that have burned me and scarred my soul, it was worth it, for having been allowed to walk where I've walked, which was to hell on earth, heaven on earth, back again, into, under, far in between, through it, in it, and above."  - Gia


Real love, 
it finds you somewhere-

with your back to it.

The kind of thing to look at when you sit down to grieve.

I am disconnected from parts of me that are deep wells of sadness.

To connect to pain is a memory away. I do not reach for you because you destroy me for days.

Mending: how do we keep safe our memories? Especially the ones we must leave behind in order to survive.

Even if we love memory.

Even if we use it as a way to devotion.
Even when it’s not.

Even when we dragged it around like a block of light just to see if it lasted.

Even when it breaks. Even when we know it will break. Let’s be shocked,


sometimes in suffering we find ourselves. 

I touch the sky when my knees hit the ground

You traded heaven to have me again.

"mint green jail tones" on desperate questions.

will love come?
in the back of my head
riding back seat or
riding shot gun
will love come?
on the sidewalk 
overseas and
the sidewalk near my street back home
repeat repeat repeat

will love come: a loop that plays. It's beyond a rhyme and all the desolate cliches.

3 words raw-asking for a yes or a no. circle one.

I'm still empty handed.

will love come
I roar in the midnight hour
will love come i weep in traffic before the bums wake up to mock my hope.

answer me universe
answer me self

will love come

"a mystery"

"the never ending thesis."

will love come : the jail cell of my womanhood.

water on your hands and on your face.

writing from an honest place seems
until its not.

I need you/I don't need you


sometimes a man gets so sad he can hardly feel it 

there were the years you waited for love-
and now you hardly think of it anymore.

sometimes you get so alone that it just makes sense.

in the past:
i needed you to feel
my loneliness 
for me
with me
just for right now
because the weight is too heavy
and its crushing me second by second

some men take it
and hand it back
some men feel it deeply
and hate me for it.

sick recognizes sick
hurt recognizes hurt

love me tender
love me, quick.