a wabi-sabi heart

in Japan, when a piece of pottery cracks or breaks, it is filled with gold.

wabi-sabi is a concept of finding beauty in imperfections.

i’d like to think there’s a lot of gold in broken hearts.


no worries, i, too, am fluent in awkward

after the breakup 

i told him that i loved the rain

and he said that he hated it

it was everywhere he didn’t want it to be at the moment

it started raining saturday night

and i got a text from him

north atlantic garbage patch

it took me a little while to finally allow the wind to blow away your name when it was the first thought that would pop into my brain when i had news i wanted to tell

your name would get swept in a vortex so fast, unable to escape

it took me a little while to see the connection between you and the North Atlantic Garbage Patch

you shouldn’t be there in the ocean of my thoughts, you didn’t belong there, stuck in the land of forget-me-not

my heart beats against my chest

it wants to break away from that barrier

and reaches for my sleeve

oh, how it loves to lay there


words flow out of my pencil

as if their only purpose is for

the graphite to kiss the paper

every chance it gets

the thoughts cannot be contained

as they spill out from my brain

sometimes they leave a stain

others just a watermark

soon to disappear as if they never



salty tears and

peppered freckles

you are fully human

in a world full of ‘savages’

and that’s what makes you


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