A Poem Collection: Watch Me Love. Watch Me Break.

Our story began June 22, 2018. It ended April 30, 2020. This is the story, as I was living it.

Each poem stems from a different date. There’s a big gap in time.. I don’t know why I started writing less towards the end. The last one was written 20 days before he lost me. I think I already knew.

I haven’t written since then. That is where our story ends.

November 13, 2018.

Whenever it’s raining,

I think of you.

I first felt you in the rain.

I barely knew you but ran with you

Laughing as we stood so close,

Completely soaked

In the doorway.

We smiled, pretending we weren’t

Incredibly

Vulnerable

In that moment.

In that moment,

I had no idea that I’d be walking with you

Weeks later in the rain once again

Holding hands, knowing we were

Incredibly

Vulnerable.

You first kissed me when my face was

Soaked with rain that

Fell from my eyes.

I remember you brushing your hand briefly

Over my cheek

And smiling soundly before your lips

Met my salty face as if we were

Already falling

In love

In that moment.

In that moment,

I didn’t know that id find myself collapsed

In your embrace,

Trusting you with it all,

Each time the clouds in my mind let the

Rain fall on my face because

We were already falling

In love.

Whenever it’s raining,

I think of you.

First, because I felt you in the rain.

Second, because I loved you in the rain.

Rain is falling on my window now and it hits

The glass with a beautiful rhythm.

It’s singing to me.

To you.

Hear it? It’s singing

“I feel you.”

“I love you.”

Because just as it does

So

Do

I.

December 15, 2018.

I wonder if stars know when they die.

Do they shine to keep their legacy

Or do they keep shining because they

Don’t know?

I think love works the same way.

Sometimes you know when it’s over

But choose to ignore it

And sometimes, sometimes

You’re just not ready

To let

Go.

Because

For every falling star is a person

Falling in love

Or a person

Falling

Out.

But like the stars that have died

And the ones that have fallen,

There’s only one thing you can do.

Keep on

Burning.

Loving.

Even when everything inside of you tells you to quit.

December 16, 2018.

There’s a word for the feeling

Of the soft blanket beneath your bare skin

Or the fan blowing gently across your face in the night.

There’s a word for the feeling

Of an auburn light illuminating a darkened room

Or the moment when the sun crests over the horizon in the morning.

There’s a word for the feeling.

Of your heart falling to your feet in the moment in between songs

Or the warmth of a candle when it’s wick first meets the flame in your hands.

There’s a word for the feeling

Of falling in love for the first time.

with yourself,

then with life,

then with him.

There’s a word for the feeling.

You’re feeling it now.

It’s vulnerability.

December 30, 2018.

You can’t take a canvas

Covered in paint and expect to

Make it white again

And just like it

You can’t take a history

Full of words that shouldn’t hurt and

Times that built and broke you

And expect to erase it.

Something is always going to bleed through.

Because even if the canvas appears white,

You still remember what was once there.

And even if you coat it once, twice,

Fifty times

It will never be a blank canvas again.

So don’t tell me

That’s what’s past is past.

Because what’s past is

Part of what’s

Today.

It’s never just gone.

January 12, 2019.

You know the feeling

The feeling when he smiles

And his eyes are the sparkle that blinds you and the ocean that surrounds you

The feeling when his hand slips into

Yours, almost subconsciously,

As you walk together passed the crowds of faces that blur away

The feeling when you catch his glance

When everyone else is talking

But he won’t stop looking at you

The feeling when his unique laugh fills the

Room and your heart

And you realize you want to hear it forever

The feeling when you can’t sleep

Without him and every moment melts

Into him

You know the feeling

The one where you realize you’re

Truly, madly, deeply

Without a doubt beyond words

In love.

January 16, 2019.

He laughed

And his hand fell gently, slowly

To rest on my back.

His eyes

Met mine for just a second,

Speaking words to me before turning back.

He smiled,

Oh that smile,

And I forgot everything I was saying.

January 20, 2019.

Maybe it’s the way the sun breaks

Through the clouds of a cold day

Maybe it’s the way the grass grows

Within the cracks in the sidewalk

Maybe it’s the way the music fades

Into the night when you fall asleep

Or

Maybe it’s the way he smiles

At you like there’s no one else in the world

Maybe it’s the way his hand unconsciously

Slips into yours when he’s talking

Maybe it’s the way his eyes are an ocean

Of everything he knows and understands

Maybe it’s him

That reminds you

What it’s like to

Love and

To be

Loved.

But maybe, just maybe,

There’s no maybe at all.

It’s just him. It’s always been

Him.

February 5, 2019.

“Are you happy?” He asked me.

I stared over the horizon,

Over the trees,

Over the last few years. I looked into

The sun as it ducked behind a

Grey, spotted cloud. I saw it’s

Light glimmer in his eyes.

The sun then finally set, hiding from us and he was

Already walking away, leaving

Me standing in the middle of the golden

Field.

I realized I never answered.

“Does it matter?” I finally responded,

Just seconds too late. He

was gone.

I turned from the sun, from him,

And I walked the opposite direction. Because I already knew the answer to my question.

If it had mattered, he wouldn’t have had to ask.

February 22, 2019.

“That’s the thing” she sighed, brushing her hair

Subconsciously away from her speckled, emerald eyes.

“Even the shore line drifts away for awhile, but it always comes back”.

I wished that I was crying because I knew

She was asking me to stay.

I couldn’t meet her eyes as I said,

“But is it really ever the same again?”

She knew as well as I did that the answer was no. But she

Didn’t say a word.

Instead she let her hand that was lightly on my arm fall to her side

And my heart fell to the ground

And just like the sea and the sand,

We drifted apart

Once again.

March 20, 2019.

“What’s it like?,” he asked, staring at his hands. “What’s it really like to be in love?”

“It’s beautifully ambitious like when snowflakes fall and you wait to catch one of the millions just to watch it disappear from underneath your nose. It’s mellow but bright like when the breeze burns your cheeks and sweeps your hair as if to announce its presence boldly yet softly. It’s never ugly, just always messy like when the rain hits the car window leaving streaks of calming residue. It’s simply complicated like how the shade from a tree covers just your eyes so you can watch the rest of your skin soak up the sun. It’s unexpectedly perfect like the thunderstorm that breaks the heat and forces you to run for cover. It’s freeing and steady like the feeling of your toes breaking through the warm pool with an ice cold lemonade freezing your hand.”

She looked at him and grabbed his hand.

“It’s like this,” she finally finished. “It’s everything. It’s every season, every condition — and you’ll never wish for a different day or a different forecast because each of them are so different, yet perfectly, somehow, are the same.”

April 5, 2019.

She shoved him out the door, her hands firm against his chest but her face emotionless.

He stood there in the doorway trying to think of the words to say. She stood on the other side just far enough away so he couldn’t reach.

Behind her, a crash filled the house. It was probably just the wind from the kitchen window knocking over the vase on the counter.

The vase full of flowers that she picked for herself, because he wouldn’t.

Still, he tried to peer over her shoulder and asked, “what was that?”

She didn’t even flinch. Didn’t turn. Didn’t blink. Instead she stared him dead in the eyes and shrugged ever so slightly.

“Probably the sound of my heart breaking.”

And she slammed the door.

It came inches from his face and the sound rang through his body. Because that slam wasn’t just the door, it was the sound of his heart falling through the ground.

Because he realized then that after years of fighting, loving, laughing, and regretting — he had finally done it.

He’d lost her.

December 2, 2019.

One of the hardest things I’ve had to learn is that not everyone will change. Not everyone will grow. No matter how hard you try and how much effort you put into them, they will always be the same. And you know, that’s okay. It’s okay that they won’t change. Maybe they weren’t meant to. Maybe it’s not their time. It’s okay. You didn’t fail. And neither did they. Take that same energy and effort and put it into someone else. Yourself. It doesn’t matter how much you want someone to be different. It is not up to you. It is up to you, though, to make yourself different. Stop trying to change everyone around you and change the one person you have control of. You. Stop being so hard on yourself. You have all the power to make a difference, you’re just putting it in the wrong place. In the wrong people. The power is in you.

March 19, 2020.

There is a sort of freeness that comes from a place of brokenness. Everything matters, but at the same time, nothing does. Once you’ve cried it all out, there is nothing left. There is nothing left other than the feeling that you broke again and lived through it again.

You can try and spend every moment trying to figure out why the brokenness is consuming you. Or, you can bask in the moments of freedom when you hit rock bottom and everything that’s been weighing you down falls. Bask in the moments of sobbing. Bask in the moments of tranquility that come after all the tears have fallen.

There is no timeline for healing. You may be broken for a while. Remember that you are also free. You have a power over yourself that no one else has - the power to pick yourself up off the floor, wipe your face, and smile. Smile because you are not okay. And that’s okay with you.

There is a sense of freedom that comes from brokenness. It’s called hope.

April 10, 2020.

Even in the beginning when it’s easy,

It’s hard.

It’s hard to let your walls down.

It’s hard to trust.

To let yourself love and be loved.

But in time, you do.

Then it happens. It’s just something

Small the first time and for a second

You panic.

Did you make a mistake?

But you move on because you’re vulnerable and you’re in love and

That’s okay. It’s okay to hurt sometimes.

It’s two years later, and so many bad things have happened. Things you shouldn’t have overlooked - but did.

You’re in so much pain.

You want to rebuild those walls you torn down and start over and move on

But

You don’t have the strength.

He has brought you down to nothing but rubble and you stay and you take it because

What else do you do?

You are broken.

How is it that you’ve forgotten what love feels like and yet, still you are so in love.