Stepping Stones to Nowhere

I am to you what you were to me:
A means, never an end
There are worse things that I could be
But that’s a poor excuse to be friends
I still wonder if you think of me
A tired thought, so oft repeated
And if we’re warned off who we want to be
It doesn’t matter who we needed
Friendship is no reliable thing
And more, is even less
So if I’m not ready for anything
What I’m doing here I cannot guess

What We Lose

You were in my dreams again
Inaccessible, as in life
Things are sharper now than they were then
And I’m the one who bore the knife

I saw you through the glass again
A distant shape, a distant voice
How are we supposed to win
When we lose so much by choice?

A July 4th

July fourth
Watching fireworks
Each one, a family
Each one, a memory
Every one a possibility
Only, not for me
The people behind those lights
I will never meet
The moments that they make
Will never require me to be complete
And I’ve been told so many times
Not to make so much of little things
But it strikes me in its tragedy
And the tears take off with failing wings.


I told myself that I was more together
But all this time I’ve just been damaged
And every time I pulled away
I claimed was so as not to end up bandaged,
Not realizing that only pain
Could be the reason that I sit here ravaged
By a fear that will not go away
Of the loneliness I’ve barely managed.

Recurring Regret

I’ve been dreaming of you again:
My bloodless sister, my long-lost friend.
We used to be as thick as thieves,
Until stealing away became my trend.

I’d caught anger and fallen ill;
And thinking quarantine was best,
I shut you out until you caught a chill
And decided to leave me to my rest.

But now I see you in my dreams
And in them, we are friends again;
But in waking up, I recall the years,
And I only want to sleep again.

Letter to Myself…

Dear… Well, you.

So, you’ve been having a weird time lately. You had a boyfriend. For like a week. Realized you fell short of your own ideals, and weren’t actually ready for that kind of relationship. Yes: it turns out that you’re really not so different from everyone else. You, too, act out in anger and frustration. You, too, can let fear and loneliness drive you.

But that’s not such a terrible realization.

You got to talk to your sister because of it. She called you out, and you were glad of it. You get so tired of the hiding; It’s nice to speak honestly about things. You even talked with Mom a little. And you got to spend a little time with someone outside your family. You expected all of the worst things when you realized what you had to tell him; but he actually surprised you. Perhaps he’ll continue to. Perhaps not. But you’re thankful anyway.

It made you think of things that make you cry; Friendships lost because of your own foolishness. It happened so slow and quiet. They still live right next door, and yet they feel a world away. How can you ask their forgiveness? How can you pretend you’re anything more than a wreck of a person? You don’t feel you can. You’ve given what signals you know how to, in the past, hoping that maybe they’ll catch on and reach back. But they have their own lives. You’re trying to accept that. You wonder if maybe you should just get over it and move on. But they’re still like family to you.

Your sister has said that everyone has their own lives, and that yours and theirs aren’t mutually exclusive. Believing that can be hard. There’s still the thought that you’re more than you think you are — that you’re actually worse. Like maybe you’re a serial killer in the making. You’re pretty sure you’ve scared your sister with comments like that before; With doubts in your own sanity, nonchalant remarks of things you worry might be serious. But you’re not sure what else to do.

But come, if the past month or two has taught you anything, it’s that you need to learn to look beyond all the doom and gloom. You’re capable of more than you realize. And while staying in your head may seem safer, what’s in your head will never surprise you. You will always be alone.

And as it turns out, you don’t like that so much.

So, with much love