Falling in Love with a Writer: Unrequited Love

falling in love with a writer means to be immortalized in ink on white pages that remind them that even purity is an illusion

it means you will go days not knowing if they love you or hate you or whether they will trace sonnets on your skin with their tongue

it means being naked, mind, body, and soul, and they do not care if you rip their heart to shreds as long as you throw them on the bed and fuck them until they can’t breathe anymore

falling in love with a writer means that you will forever be chasing the dream of them – but you will never truly know who they are – because most writers are masochists who pretend otherwise

falling in love with a writer means that dealing with depression, anxiety, sleepless nights, and passionate love are always on the menu

falling in love with a writer means that you have lost your fucking mind –

turn back now


Hopeless Anticipation: Unrequited Love

Watching the sky dissolve in hopeless anticipation

Waking up

it was all a dream

Pull me closer and whisper:

“I will always come back for you”

The Willow Tree – The Remix: Unrequited Love

I came upon a grassy land that bore

no worry nor strife

I washed my hair in the waterfall’s groves

and dove into the shallow shores

I wandered in and out of melancholy and

a big tree branch I did try to climb

it was not as sturdy as I thought

perhaps it resembled me

after I came to consciousness – I sat below this willow tree

and thought perhaps

some things are just not meant to be

Bloom, Baby: Unrequited Love

taking stretches of unknown highways and licking salty lips wet with anticipation of mediocrity or perhaps something more to twist and turn your guts inside out and light a fire that won’t extinguish

bloom, baby and come home to me

Ten More Minutes: Unrequited Love

missing days when love meant

waking up before the sun

watching the moon disappear

(like you)

and skies change from black nothingness –

to deep purples and beautiful possibilities

when rolling over meant

finding arms stretched out to

find you and morning-breath-kisses remind

you of what it felt like to be cherished before

you opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep away

how living in a silent moment made time stop

as you intertwined your legs and convinced yourself

ten-more-minutes would suffice