September Love

Will you love me enough? Love me so much that your heart can barely hold it—that it would break every other heart you’ve ever held?

Be a Poet

What is it like being a poet? You open yourself up like a big, ruinous chasm and everyone sees inside you, but no one understands who you are.

This World

I love this world so very dearly

Even more so now it feels

I am losing my grip on everything

The sun came up for me even

though I never asked it to

And most days I wouldn’t give

a second thought to everything

that was going right in my life.

The pure joy of waking up

with somewhere to go

something to do

and someone to love

I used to worry in the pointless way

one does—one who never had

to question her place in the world

Not knowing the fragility

of this place

Your Poetry

If I only knew you through your poetry—would ever only know you through your words—I think I would have loved you just the same

the Things

You are made of the all things you have loved. You are made of the all the things you have lost. And both contribute in equal measure to your beauty and your brilliance

Show of Love

I want to buy us a house

with red roses in the yard

and a skylight above our bed

Raindrops dancing on the glass

A house made of bricks

an address that I can write to

anytime I wish

A fireplace roaring

against the long, cold night

and a blanket big enough

to wrap around us both

I think shelter is the ultimate

show of love

and I want to protect you

from everything that hurts

Written

When you have written all you had to write

there is nothing left to write about but yourself

Reminder

People want to know you

All you have to be is present

People want to love you

All you need to be is yourself

To Yourself

Pick yourself up. Get it together. Not because others have it worse than you. Not because you owe it to anyone to put on a smile. But because you have your mother’s blood flowing through your veins. And even if you think otherwise, you matter to so many people. But first of all, you need to matter to yourself.

We Were Loved

We were loved in ways

We couldn’t know

Loved with gladness

Loved with sorrow

We were taught to meet

the demands of others

In the name of love

they hurt our mothers

They kept us close

and held our hands

Gave us more love

than we could stand

And still we plead

and still we doubt

whether loved within reason

or loved without