Eyes closed
The sadness breaks you
Too numb to move
Too angry to think
Youve come this far
Shackles on my feet
Nobody to save me
All I have is me to face
All I have is the memories of what was
The dreams of what could have been
Dreams shattered
Hopes torn
I stare into the mirror
Looking at another man
Who have I become?
The curtains close
Leaving me to drift away
Slamming my fists down on my chair
I cry out in pain
Hands on my face
Screams heard with deaf ears
Surrounded by my creeping fears




My favorite quote about loss. It’s long, but it’s so true.

“As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too.

If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”



She fell onto her knees
Everything was broken
Her glasses
Her soul
She wanted to do something but couldn’t
She felt it was her fault as everything crumbled around her
She should feel scared, but her heart just breaks more
She felt as broken as the mirror around her
Her fragile mind in war with every other part of her
Not even a sewing kit could stitch up the wounds left on her



Myself is the space in between the stars in the sky. The nothingness that is ever so important.

Myself s when you blink and though you see nothing you still know that it’s there.

Myself is the silence ringing through the air, not making a sound yet always seeming so loud

Myself is the nothingness that envelopes you as you drift to sleep, comforting you as you fall into dreams

The space between.
The tears we cry.
Is where you’ll find me hiding waiting for you.



Let me tell you a story
About a boy who staked his glory
For the thing that barely exists
Some will agree some will clench their fists
It was love, he gave his all
He got nothing but the fall
All the memories he wanted to make
Turned to a nightmare as it was a mistake
She hung his love and got greedy
He was innocent, never realized when things got speedy
She tricked his soul into this trap
He lost his faith from love and thinks its all crap.