An odd sort of Poetry · I Just Might Be OKAY Without YOU

that girl

maybe one day you’ll think of her:

that girl you left behind.

you’ll wonder how she is,

what she looks like,

who she loves.


but darling,

there is no need to wonder.

that girl isn’t around anymore.

she was gone

the minute you broke her precious heart

for the first time.


so thank you

because I never wanted to be

the girl that needed you




An odd sort of Poetry · I Just Might Be OKAY Without YOU · I still miss you · words for the boy who broke my heart

Regret doesn’t burn. You do.



I said your name out loud today-

it almost got stuck in my throat


writing your name here

does make this pen

burn in my hand

but I live for the pain

and you give me more and more


each and every day.

everything still burns-

the way you left me

but also the way you loved me

all the memories,

even the good ones,

still burn in my mind.

so, you,

I do not regret,

as much as I sometimes

wish that I could.


a bit better · An odd sort of Poetry · I Just Might Be OKAY Without YOU · words for the boy who broke my heart

something blue


your hello started something in me

something I never got to finish

I had hoped

we would finish it together


hope is always ill-advised


it is hard to finish a thing

you could never define


scraps and scribbles

memories and notes

aren’t enough


all that’s left to work with

is blue:

blue eyes and heavy tears

blue journals and boutonnieres

blue pills and that

blue lace

everything blue was always for you.

everything blue still is.


but I think you started something in me

with your goodbye

I think I’ve started changing colors

because I no longer want to be blue.

An odd sort of Poetry · I Just Might Be OKAY Without YOU · I still miss you · words for the boy who broke my heart

‘You’ vs you


my pen still writes about you

but it can never mention you by name.

that would hurt too much

too real.

this way I can write about you

without having to write about You


I can empty my thoughts onto this heavy paper

without my pen running dry

because You are not here

to suck the ink out of it.


You cannot take these words

these letters to You

they are not for You anymore

they are for me.

I’m letting myself have these.

You’ve taken enough.


haven’t You?

An odd sort of Poetry · I Just Might Be OKAY Without YOU

maybe you’ll call

Maybe you’ll wake up Sunday with a tired mind and nowhere to be,

but then you’ll glance at the calendar and remember me.

You’ll remember that there was something you were meant to do;

there was someone you were meant to see.


Every broken piece of me is hoping you’ll call

Hoping you’ll explain why you made a mess of it all.

but you won’t.


You’ll see my name with that ‘happy birthday’

and you’ll briefly remember your own,

and how I was there.

I’ll be missing you,

but you won’t really care.


You’ll walk around all day

a little agitated

because there will be a loud weight on your shoulder:

(it’s usually quiet, but today it’s all you can do to stop the ringing in your ears).

You’ll see the snow falling and shiver

~the thought of me~

You’ll put your playlist on shuffle and hear that one song

~the sound of me~

You’ll follow the curly blonde hair rounding the corner

~the wish for me~

all day.

every little thing

will make you think of me,

but you won’t do anything.


You won’t do anything until you’re four shots deep

scrolling through my photos.

until you’re stumbling home to your dorm late at night

and the familiar scene makes you forget

that you never loved me.

and your phone is pressed against your cheek,

just as mine rings,

but for the first time,

I don’t pick up.


and all you can manage to say to the answering machine

is ‘happy birthday.’

but I’ll never hear it;

my voicemail is full

and my heart grew tired of waiting for you to call

a long time ago.


An odd sort of Poetry · I Just Might Be OKAY Without YOU

thank you.

It hurt.

It still hurts,

More than I care to admit.

There’s a heaviness in my chest,

And an aching in my soul.

Some part of me is missing,

A part that you took from me when you left.

I still don’t know which hurt the most:

Losing you,


Loving you.

It hurt.

It hurt so bad.

There was always a lump in my throat,

And a longing in my heart.

Some part of me was missing,

I part that I thought you could fill.

When we were together,

That hurt like hell.

I never wanted this to end,

But at least now,

I can thank you for setting me free.

Because I would’ve stayed forever,

If only you had asked me to.