the world and writing of a nyc writer

gretchen is a writer in new york city

Tag: heartbreak (page 5 of 13)

sto morendo

I’m about to bleed poetry.

img_6811I’ve had my apartment back to myself for two days since having company for three weeks; as my soul mate‘s family revealed health issues back in Italy, which means he’s out the door.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying at this point. But that’s ok, eyedrops help, and at least I’m discrete. Dipping into restrooms, trying to avoid houseguests.

Sto morendo. Continue reading

heartbreak. three weeks. home.

Namaste.

It’s still surreal that I have had my heart destroyed to this degree, so recently. I’m glad that I img_6411have at least been able to entertain my three-week house guest.

I feel like, as a Poet, I’m allowed to be as boo-hoo as I feel like being today. I dare said that I haven’t taken a hit like this since my first husband.

And that was rough. Continue reading

la voce di crepacuore

la voce di crepacuore

ho solo
scomparire
(essere… causa) perche’
che cosa e
egli ha voluto.
e sono caduto
in questo
shock. Continue reading

shout out shenzhen

Happy Sunday global love tribescreen-shot-2016-09-18-at-10-26-14-am

Today I would like to send a special shoutout to Shenzhen, China. While I have not (yet) had the chance to travel to China, it has always been on the list. Particularly when I lived next door in Australia. However, all of my holidays back then involved traveling to New York City (naturally).

It’s always baffling to explore who on the planet we all co-habitate somehow finds my words in web land. Particularly since I cut all of my social media out of the picture. Some days I miss Instagram – however, I find that no updates outside of here seem to suit me at the moment.

This changes every six months or so, I’ll wait and see what happens. Continue reading

when brooklyn has your back

img_6829Last night I was in Brooklyn licking raw Luthier wounds. One of my favorites made the evening, like always.

I tipped topless women and laughed loudly. I was twirled to tracks that played on a juke box in a Cony Island bar, catching up with a bartender I used to see regularly.

I had fun for the first time since my birthday. Last week was a little whack. Continue reading

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