
I find god more easily in a room full of poets on a Thursday night than I ever did in a church full of the righteous on a Sunday morning
-gws

I find god more easily in a room full of poets on a Thursday night than I ever did in a church full of the righteous on a Sunday morning
-gws

When you came into my life
You promised to be my everything
You destroyed everything instead
My hopes
My dreams
My confidence
My joy
My ability to love you
My ability to love me
So I made sure to take everything
When I left
-gws

This brief, beautiful
Preview of delightful Autumn
With her crisp chilled nights
And gray-sky mornings
Will be brutally interrupted
By Summer strolling
Back onto the stage
Despite having taken her bow
For a sweaty encore
That nobody wanted
-gws

When we leave a toxic relationship
self-doubt and second guessing prevent us
From locking the door behind us
We wonder if we’ve made the right choice
We wonder if we’ve made a mistake
If your freedom feels like liberation
You have made the right choice
For your long term wellbeing
It’s time to lock that door
-gws

I would send you a bouquet
Of newly sharpened pencils
If it would inspire you to
Write a different ending
Draw a greener pasture
Dream in color again
-gws

You refused to take responsibility
So I accepted it instead
Until the day I found
You in someone else’s bed
You didn’t do the right thing
You clutched your pearls and said,
“If only you had been the wife
You promised when we wed”
At first I shrank around the wound
Thinking you were right
Believing that it may be true
That I’d been a lousy wife
I thought of all the arguments
That were constant in our life
The years of ugly, cutting blame
The insistence you were right
But then the rage came rushing in
You would gaslight me no more
I said that you were full of shit
And kicked you out the door
I realized I had done my part
In holding up my vow
It was you who failed on every front
I’d not be blamed right now
You made choices on your own
Now I have made some too
So hit the road, you selfish prick
Gaslighting days are through
-gws

My future is tabula rasa
Full of possibilities
Slow to emerge from the long shadows
And still brushing off the cobwebs of shame, doubt, and fear
I begin to wonder what awaits me
Who awaits me
The question nauseates me
I'm not ready to open my heart
Nor do I expect to be ready any time soon
And yet I find myself wondering
Will there be another
My heart fearfully whispering,
"Will I get a second chance?"
I'm not ready to fall in love again
I am only longing for the magic of falling
The elation that comes from feeling seen
Feeling chosen
Because all I wanted for so long
Was to feel chosen
To be enough
I am working to remember how to love me
How to be enough for myself
How to appreciate my perfect imperfections
How to forgive the choices I made to survive
I must become reacquainted with me
My future is tabula rasa
Full of possibilities
Bursting with opportunity to craft a life I want to live
And blessed with time to heal from a life I endured
I embrace my next chapter gratefully
Even as my knees quake with each step forward
My blank slate has its first word: freedom
Its second word: peace
I think that's a beautiful place for a new story to start
-gws

Days grow shorter
Mornings and evenings delightfully chilled
Long afternoons warm, hazy, and tea-colored
Cool breezes dance from the sea into the valley
Making layered wardrobes a must this time of year
The world starts to quiet down
Though restlessly at first
Unwilling to relinquish summer's vitality
Harvest season half complete
The trees begin debuting their fall finery
Resplendent in reds, golds, and browns
As purple hues return to sunset skies
The golden hour earns its name now
As the last dandelion seeds drift through dried grasses awash in glowing rays
Shadows deepen as homes reflect amber radiance in westward facing window panes
Preparing to welcome night's elongating visits earlier each day
The resting season is arriving
It carries with it ghostly tales told under cloud-filtered moonlight
Candlelight and story craft
Blankets, books, and honeyed tea
Soups, stews, and baked goods of all kinds
Air laden with aromatic spices and yeast
The world grows gradually quieter
Chirping crickets slow their masterpieces from allegro to adagio
Singing the world into a calmer pace before putting away their instruments
Fall readies to welcome dreamers and philosophers
Writers and witches
All the laborers of the mind and spirit
Into its gentle comforting arms
-gws

I grieve you
The you I fell in love with
The you who glowed when you laughed
The you who loved me for loving your vulnerability
You are not dead
But you are gone
No hope or prayer or wishing will bring you back
I can’t help but want to see you again
Beneath the monster who wears your skin
The one who ate away the soul of you over long years
If I hear you
I know it is not you
It is an echo of you
A remnant used by the monster to try to lure me back
I’m sorry I couldn’t save you
I watched you struggle to save yourself but the monster won
Drowned you in anger, hurt, bitterness, and addiction
Consumed you from the inside out
I grieve you
I grieve my hope for you
For us
For our family
I grieve the dream turned nightmare
I grieve the loss of myself in the torrent of your disease
I loved you
I lost you
I’m sorry
-gws

I am no longer funding
The luxury of familiarity
It has cost me too much
And offered questionable ROI
I am only entertaining thoughtful investment
In quality platonic companionship
For those interested in applying
Limited applications are being accepted
A nonrefundable fee will be assessed
And a thorough background check performed
I reserve the right to cancel the requisition at any time
And invest in my own peace instead
-gws