Tag Archives: distance

[You’ll Never Hear Me Say It]

This is shaping up to be a week of strange juxtapositions. I had this poem ready to go Monday evening, but somehow couldn’t put the finishing touches on it until today. Boredom and distraction strike all too quickly, and yet, there hardly seems enough time in each day to get some work done…. Anyways, all this dreary stuff to say that last weekend was a delight, and so, for once, I’ve got a joyful poem for you.

You’ll never hear me say it, but I’m

part of me wonders:
what did I miss?
those few days spent together
turned to ten years spent apart
and yet, we are richer for it

Somehow our friendship survived

the death of a parent
the deconstruction of our families
the gentle growth of new life
friendships, bridges built
on a foundation once crumbling

You’ll never hear me say it, but I Continue reading [You’ll Never Hear Me Say It]

Missing Out

Living away from family and friends is tough sometimes. There’s always a lot of good things, right, but the long and short of it is: you’re missing out. And so are they, in a way.

It’s only the distance, right?
I’m so far away from all the messes
– make my own –
so far away from all
the cancer and the ugly truths
– have ’em here too –
so far away from daily struggles
– it’s snowing here –
so far away from home

It’s funny how I call it that
home – as if
I’m missing your theater tryouts
and the fact that there’s a new teacher
at my old high school
– new teachers for me too –
the fact that you’re still riding everyday
– I miss my bike –
the fact that dinners and our tiny
three-bedroom house for five
– I’ve got two –
look so much flatter on the screen

Did I mention that it’s winter here?
No, not outside – it’s winter
in the way it’s not the rain
– we all precipitate –
It’s winter in the books that
are still left on the shelf, unread
– they’re lonely –
in the way that I can live alone now
unencumbered, also empty
– cook my own meals and everything –
It’s winter in the treats I bake on weekends
cause an introvert
– that’s me –
is so much better left alone

Did I mention moving out?
It means living in your own head
– you miss my art –
living in a space so undefined
– and what about your oil pastels? –
living in a winter house so white
you’re missing out
– your nursing books and
push-up runs and
those fun evening videos –
living in anticipation
of the day when I come home again

Oct 20/15


Day one of my first series, and I’m already behind… sounds about right. Anyways, here’s last week’s poetry: a piece that explores┬áhow hard it is to be away from the people you love. Expats, college kids, and newly-moved-out folks, this is for you.


I sit here.
I only talk to you
– I sit here,
staring at the
cracks in the ceiling,
those black memories
we made fall when
I sit here,
no longer remembering
no longer privy to
this daily ache inside
and when
I sit here
I just think because
I’m all alone
and you can’t hear
the thoughts I send your way
the thoughts I try
to send your way
and now
I sit here –
I’m not comfortable
and this precious life
I’m living feels
so loud like I’m alive
and still
I sit here
and I think and say
no words because
the silence makes me feel
that when
I sit here
I’m surrounded by
the thoughts you send
my way when

you just sit there
and you think of me

Sep 28/15