G. A. P.

I’m happy you’re happy. 


I brought us back together,

like dots needing to be
And I sat and watched the conversations ripple
across the table like
to each set of lips a piece of yarn
was attached and I was caught
playing telephone,
It’s like,
I come to reconvene
and by that I mean watch.
I arrive at a table and wait
for his eyes to meet mine
or someone’s arms to enclose around my shoulders
from behind and I
look at these people I have gathered
together again
and I wonder why
I call them my friends when every time I leave the diner
I know I could go a few months or years without seeing them.
Maybe, maybe we’d feel closer then.

When She Passes By

after Caitlyn Siehl’s “Her, Her, Her”

I met you
with her name on your tongue
and the bass beat of “hurt”.
There was a road wrapped tight around your body,
cities popping up like scars out of flesh,
well-worn and rugged.
You called them “her”.
I called her “gone”.

I met your mouth
with a clash of teeth
your tongue lodged down my throat
with a taste of her.
There are shelters in my hip bones and
hostels on my breasts and you come to each
like a weary traveler begging for rest,
reaching for blankets that look a lot like bodies.
They are not “her”.
You say “someone”.

I meet you
years later,
with a boy on my arm
and my heart beating “content”.
He tries to introduce us but you say
“I know her.”
There are skyscrapers sitting in my palms and clouds rolling in your eyes like we have made it to that city, our city, just to watch it downpour.
You tell him “Keep her”.
He tells you “I’m already gone.”


For Boys Who Hold Grief Between Their Teeth

I look at you
while holding love
under my tongue.

I look at you
with your fox-like smile
that doesn’t reach your eyes.

I look at you and keep my mouth closed.

I look at you and hope you let yourself
every once in a while.


Twice Bitten

There is a lipstick smudge
on the side of my mouth
and I am conversing
with two boys I’ve kissed.

The irony is this:
I had just finished lunch.
And while I am hugging one,
I’m talking to the other
an ex,
and of all the songs to come on shuffle:
“I Won’t Give Up” on us.

God knows, you weren’t tough enough.

But you’re the one to see me in distress,
tell me to remove the lipstick from
my face.
Before I plea helpless and we fall back
into pattern of conversing
like the best friends we were.

But she comes over,
glowers in the corner.
Like what?
Who don’t you trust?
But that’s enough for me to say goodbye,
but not before I get
one last hug.

And I’m glad there is no tide
of second chances rolling around,
that sometimes God speaks and other times it’s just a sound.

But my ex told of my smeared face.
My ex tried to fix the fake misplaced shame.
My ex laughs exactly the same.

And I don’t miss us.

But sometimes,
when life is screwing me over,
I remember it’s possible
to find somebody
to love.


Energy: Gabby “Healing Process” Update

Do you know how little the amount of energy I have put into myself is?

I have spent up so much of this life force inside me hating, missing, loving, loathing other people besides myself and have found that now I’m a state detrimental to my health.
When you expend all that energy into other people and don’t take time out for yourself, don’t step back and see how they’re affecting your life when it’s exactly that: your life, you’re never going to get better. 

I guess I’m preaching to the choir.
I have spent so much time especially missing and hating what others did to me, wondering that I have stopped my growth as a person. I have lost track of who God wants me to be, and the only person who is letting these people affect my life is me

It is time to let only my decisions affect my life. 
it is time to live for me, and who God wants me to be, especially time to figure out His wonderful purpose and plan for me.

Letting go is letting God; regardless of what other people say. It’s giving something or someone up to His higher gracious power, His loving power.
Because without God’s love and grace, I don’t think I’d be able to re-build myself back up. I don’t think I could have thought that I could actually be happy on my own and have epiphanies (despite other people telling me these very words) that only I have the power over what hurts me, of who.

When you live not for the purpose of searching for “completion” (through others) and instead live to do God’s work, the only energy you will expend will bring Him glory in the end.
And, despite what people say, there’s no gore on our part to receive His glory, His unfailing grace on us.
That’s pretty amazing. 

I’m sorry it took me forever,
but I want you to know healing is a process and becoming the person God intends me to be is the goal in my life right now. Faith is my main anchor.
I want you to know the only energy I have left is on me.

And that’s pretty amazing.


A Year from Then

We all know that
Beethoven wrote symphonies
and we sit here
writing our so-called
from our
“broken-hearted” misery.

I’m not trying to say we’re all sellouts.
I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt.

I’m trying to remind you
that Beethoven,
deaf and maddening,
wrote one of the best known
musical symphonies 
due to feeling happy.

A little number
“Ode to joy.”

Now let’s pause and think of the notes.
Let’s take a moment to remember we don’t
do this for the comments,
but rather to express a common feeling
whether it be love or apathy
happiness or pain
that others are dealing with.

This is me 
looking back
saying that
I never thought
I would be where I am now
a year ago,
this is me saying I’m proud of how far I had to come.

This is me not diminishing my pain,
but instead realizing things are only “great”
if we let them be.

you’ve read the poetry,
you’ve seen the behind-the-scenes,
the suffering,
but understand,
that was a year ago.
And I was nineteen.

I’m twenty now,
if I’ve learned anything:
it’s that I’m healing,
falling in love with me,
and I want to write
joyous symphonies.