“I thought my love would never recover.” by Julia at her desk

Wednesday March 21, 2018
10:57am
5 minutes
A quote by Madeleine L’Engle

It is a gift given often without being returned
a tiny bird’s egg rescued from concrete
the padded footsteps around the house
while he sleeps through the day again
Expectations far away from here

But then it is still true
When the silence is so loud it weeps
the hurt so present it raises the skin
you might think this love bone might never mend
this aching might never go away

He sleeps, through the day again,
her mother forgets to ask about her doctor’s appointment
the padded footsteps, soft from walking with empty
And the next day, a window cracks
the light streaming in just a little

“Yeah that’s correct” by Julia at Platform 7


Friday, July 15, 2016 at Platform 7
3:07pm
5 minutes
overheard at Platform 7

I am alone in my room and I am putting up pictures of you on the walls and in frames because I might be insane since you broke up with me yesterday and I’m doing this today. I have my reasons for doing this. I know about heartache because I’ve felt it before and it’s about to sink in. So I think, what I’m doing is keeping you close so I don’t feel like you’re gone. So I don’t have any spaces that feel like they’d be better with you in them because you are everywhere now and I control the positions. You don’t look good in all these photos because I am trying to be honest. I am trying to teach myself that you were wrong sometimes and you were ugly some days and the sun did not shine out of your ass. I miss you because I know I can’t have you but I’m here hoping to change how my brain processes the newness of not getting to touch you. I don’t know if it’ll work. I am pretty sure there are some people out there who have done worse things to get over someone.

“and I’ve begun to name things.” By Julia at Valens Restaurant


Wednesday, July 15, 2015
10:55am
5 minutes
Admittance
Shane Michalik


I have a box for all my heartache
I put it on the shelf and I let it marinate
In the flesh of the oak
In the smoothness of the varnish
It sits there until it is ready
Then I take it out of its hiding place
I smell inside and breathe in the pain
Seeped into the wood
Crept into the grooves
Still remnants of yesterday’s decisions
When it’s time I light the stove
And I name all the moments that have crippled me
One by one I throw them into the oil
And I watch as they grow crispy and small
I burn each heartache into smoke

“element of courage” by Julia at Abney Park Cemetery


Tuesday December 30, 2014
2:58pm
5 minutes
from a crossword puzzle

I suppose it takes a lot of guts to tell you this. Me siting here on a broken tree root, trying to decide if I care about the Italian Poplar trees that are so blatantly marked, and staring into your new home, wishing you didn’t have to stay in that earthy place alone. You’ve been gone for 4 weeks now. I am counting down the days to when I don’t count down the days anymore. I am giving myself some time until then to come see you and talk to you, or not, or cry, or cry more than yesterday. But what the bravery is now is telling you that I’m going to be okay. Before I didn’t want to admit that that was a possibility; that I could ever manage to break through this heartache and live a full life without you. Now I know that that’s the only thing I can do. I don’t know if I’ll still feel this way tomorrow. But today I felt like I just had to let you know.