One More Night

Do you ever wonder why we had that extra night? Like it was gifted to us. I don’t always believe in higher powers or things happening for a reason, but it’s things like this that make me question it all.

My flight was cancelled, do you remember? The winds were too strong – planes couldn’t take off. They had to put all the travelers up in an airport hotel. An inconvenience to most travelers, sure. But for us? But now? All I can think about is how grateful I am to have had that one extra night indulging in you. As if some higher power knew what greater storm we were about to face, so it stirred up that wind storm and kept me close to you.

One extra night in the same time zone, where it wasn’t London and New York. Just you and me.

One extra night spent laughing with you between every kiss. One extra night with our bodies intertwined between the sheets. One extra night sharing dinner together, smiling and chatting without a care in the world. One extra night sleeping with my arms holding you tightly against me and refusing to let go. One extra night singing along to show tunes and giggling as we stumbled over the wrong words.

One extra night of love.
One extra night of warmth.
One extra night of us.
One extra night of all the things I miss most.

One extra night of all the things I didn’t appreciate enough until long after my flight touched back down.

Resentment Part III.


You let yourself get so high,
Giving yourself a greater distance to fall.
And you did.

You yanked us down with you,
When it came crashing down and caught flames.

Falling so fast, so hard.
I’ll never let myself get that far.
I’ll never get that far.

I’ll play it safe.
But I’m afraid.
What if I lose my way?
What if I break?

Continue reading “Resentment Part III.”

House No Longer Feels Like Home

Watching the children’s faces light up as they walk through the house I grew up in and imagine it as their own. As they pick out who will have my bedroom. As they picture eating at my kitchen table that we’re leaving for them. As they ask where the bus stop is. As they gasp in admiration at the game room. As they smile at the trampoline in the yard. As they begin to feel home.


Desperation: A state of despair, typically one that results in rash or extreme behavior.

But if you recognize your own desperation, are you really in a state of despair?

What do you do when you’re battling for control over your own life?

I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to let you win.
You didn’t get to hurt me. You don’t get to break me.
You abandoned me and in return, I turned it off.
Pushed it all away. Feeling anything made me weak.

In my battle for control, I turned cold.
I burned bridges. Lost myself. Lost it all.

Feeling nothing is easier than facing the pain.
It’s what I did.
It’s what I do.
But the control still slipped through my grasp,
gliding slowly into oblivion as I watched it fall from my intertwined fingers.

Once the control is gone, all you can feel is the numbness that engulfs you like a blanket. It clings to you like a thick wool sweater on a warm day that you’re so eager to rip off but it’s stuck. Clinging to your damp skin as the sweat trickles down your back.

Continue reading “Desperation”

The Only Adrenaline I Can Feel

The fireworks erupt within me, puncturing my body and splintering my skin. It’s all too blinding for me to handle.

I can’t trap this inside me any longer. I need to escape it all.

Around me, it’s just a sea of darkness, littered by specks of people who could never understand all that I struggle for so long to keep buried.

The car door slams, quick as a gunshot, then it all unfolds. Hurricane flowing through my ears every time. Over and over, thinking one day this will end.

The speedometer climbs dangerously — up, up, up. With each sharp curve, a rush oozes through my veins like a wildfire that can’t be tamed.

I know it’s reckless, but I need this.

I need to know I can feel.

Tears I battle to contain can finally escape, stinging my burning, fiery eyes. Once the first little tear falls, the waterfall begins. Blurring my vision of the dangers in front of me.

The twinges of pain twisting deeper inside my body push me to finish what I’ve started. These thoughts consuming my already cloudy mind could make a mental person seem sane, but I know they’ll be gone once the car is in park.

When I reach my destination, my tears disappear with a few quick swipes. The smile I’ve learned to paint on so well returns. I cut the engine, and so does Hurricane.

The fireworks that allow me to feel finally subside. And I’m numb again.