I was there at the beginning;
You were almost drowning
And I was barely on land.
I dug my feet into the sand
And tried to reach out for your hand
But you didn’t know how to reach.
You spent your days on the brink of death
It became the way you lived.
And so I thought that if I dived
In too you’d come ashore with me.
I was right, and I was wrong;
I’m gasping, and you are gone.
I see the appeal of the sea—
But now I see a hand.



Was it something I said?
Just yesterday we were almost
In love and making plans for tomorrow
And I swore our words were woven


Seamless and

Incessant and

We didn’t stop until you

Fell asleep without a


My screen lights up—it’s not you.
What are you doing?
My mind spirals down endless
Possibilities and of all of them
I choose the one that hurts the most



She told me how she loved to read,
Yet words were never what she loved;
She loved the places in her head,
Knowing full well they don’t exist.

I never could fathom the way
She made those places come alive.
So real to her, to me surreal—
I tried but never could believe.

Maybe that’s why she couldn’t stay;
She pictured us transcending pages
While I remained in this quatrain—
What love she loved I could not give.

Love Drunk

I think it was ’bout half past five
The hour before the sun took form,
I think I laid on half a couch
My head still spun from all the shots.
I don’t quite know in which order
I gagged and spat and coughed and yawned,

Yet in the darkest before dawn,
Amidst the silent anarchy
Of clouded senses and sadness
A portion of my mind was clear.
So much that night I don’t recall
And yet I can’t seem to forget
You—the reason why I drank at all.

– g.w.

The Tourist

It was the twinkle in your eye,
That incandescent sojourning
Yearning adventure outside my arms.

Before you left without a word
You sighed and cried—those eyes that lied.
It was those tears that said goodnight.

It’s not your fault, I should’ve known
You always were a wanderer,
And this was just a passing by.

– g.w.


“How do you know that you love me?”
You asked as if love has to be
Confined to this reality.
How can I grasp the Milky Way,
That grand glittering disarray;

Or cup the sands beneath the sea
Of deep uncharted mystery?
But rest assured, my cosmic lover;
With you there cannot be another.

– g.w.