where my love grows

I've found that I expend much more energy
pretending I don't long for certain things.
Like the way I used to pull words from my chest. I'd imagine the words dropping like petals off some flower in me, the "loves me, loves me not" in my mind. In the end it's never been about whether I am loved or not, it's the anticipation of the answer that matters. It's where my love grows. I could even make love out of the disillusionment when the answer was "not."

It has been much more draining not being able to express the things that hurt, the things I miss, and the things I yearn for, and I'm not even sure how I came to be this quiet.
But I hope this is the first step in finding the words.

that's the thing about loving someone who doesn't love you anymore

There's no emergency escape plan. You just fucking stay there, stupid and sad, waiting for the day you realize you think about them a little less often.


I was just listening to music when the thought occurred to me.

i promise that i love you

i just don't know how to show it. i don't know how to write it in perfect sentences.

how do i explain the electric currents under my skin when you're near?
because the feeling is more than words, it's sounds and colors like radio static and kaleidoscopic patterns.
my heart bursts if you touch me, and i think it should be a painting.
my lungs puncture and my ribs collapse every time you look at me, and all my pieces are beautiful like found art.

the places we've been should be monuments and our nights together are national holidays with lighted skies and picnic tables.

by Margarita Romero

space girl

some have roses in glass cases
their greatest love,
their greatest fear,
encapsulated

but she's more than flowers
she's the quietude in your sunset,
your secrets to the moon,
unsaturated

by Margarita R.

*Hadn't written anything in a while but this one occurred to me while listening to Space Song by Beach House.

I knew the probability of early miscarriage, but facts and statistics can never prepare you for the loss. Doctors never tell you what it feels like to flush your baby down a toilet.

It's like losing a limb and feeling phantom pains. One night you're laying in bed and you feel a tug at your heart, and it hurts, but there's nothing there.

There is no closure. You only wait for days to pass by so you can think about it less.

Just finished watching an episode of The Handmaid's Tale. In this episode June is pregnant and starts bleeding, she bleeds all day, but in the end her baby survives. And then she tells her baby, while in her bellly, "You're tough, aren't you?"
And it broke me. It just took me back to that day. I bled all day and I wanted my baby to be tough, I wanted a miracle, but miracles aren't real. Awful things happen to you whether you deserve them or not. Good things happen whether you deserve them or not.

Being a woman in this world is heartbreaking. There are losses that only we suffer, and they stay with us forever.
How easy to be a man. How unfair.

"Don't let the bastards grind you down."

Get your shit together, Maggie. Get it together.

Today I had to call to cancel the ultrasound I had scheduled for tomorrow.
I had been having easier days and today it just hit me again. I miss being pregnant. I miss the tiny person I never got to meet and hold.