10 minute prose

What would I tell you?

If but all the things left unsaid

My heart overflows

But you can’t hear them

When did love become a field

That when plowed with such tender words

Becomes a battlefield

that runs red with the open wounds of untold thousands?

With the love in my heart my soul wishes for you

A brighter day than the last

Where we greet each day with a thought of each other

And end each in turn in an embrace.

Where a road not traveled

led to a grove of refreshing trees

and we stood unafraid in the clearing

confessing our love for each other

The sweet nothings, the sound of your breath in my ear

a melody of daily perfection

where we meet our fullness

in the bread that is the other’s mere presence?

Reality is our bread,

Pain it’s main course

Damned by our own limitations and longings

Of it we’ve had our fill

A tender expression,

a longing look,

a lingering touch

reminders of a love that cannot be

Forever is our course

Eternity is our damnation

That our paths had crossed earlier

So that our longing could be satisfied

So what’s leftover?

True love never dies.

It’s sad undeath remains


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Taking Pieces


I am free

But chained to my invisible ties.
He can't see me 
Or hear me.
He will soon forget my laugh,
He'll forget my smile.
I don't know why I willingly shackled myself in to start with. 
Signing my name in this contract of devotion
and heart consumption when
All I was given in return was heart-ache.
He walks freely,
Bearing the pain and all its glory.
Only for the time being.
To his peers he seems unchanged.
He appears confident;
the typical alpha-wolf routine.
Pain doesn't compare to loss.
Losing pieces
Losing pieces of myself
I thought would never come unfastened. 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

going through this relationship I realized pieces of me became lost from this world. the care-free, easy-going, confident pieces I wish everyday would comeback to me. 

A Rose Thrown out to Sea.


you were petals i once
submerged — a fistful i let
go of under a foggy sea
when i was succumbing
to myself


you were the surface tension
screaming my name;
a diaphragm’s lullaby —
old thunder in the rain…

i’ve been fond of storms
ever since



no one told me
how slow clouds would be —
i would have held my
breath a bit longer…


charted constellations
a bit better before
i spoke of love in light-years


and there you were
on a shoreline,
carrying salt in your palms



how many times
will I walk here, —
a wreckage of bramble
in my side?


“the sea is much too old,”
i heard someone say…


and the wind was salt
on my brain

it left a hole;
a stain,
and i felt a burning
behind my soggy


can stars erode
in the tide?



night adorns it’s veil —
scallops tug at the lace


and i toss inky petals
to the sea


nocturne’s dreamboat
a dead man’s float; —
how i’ve internalized
my hatred for romance


“the sea is much too old,”
i heard someone say…


and i realized my
lungs could speak
for days about sunken
ships returning home



i ignore a
distant moon — inertia
rocking my cradle


but she stays there
all the same…


here’s stardust
on her breath — whiskey
on mine


“you’ve grown much too old,”
i heard her say…


so i closed my eyes,
and felt sand between
my toes for the first time


it will be eons before
i swim here again

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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The Formless Son

Star Crusher Prime

It no longer has a true form;

the original was absorbed by the hatred

that became the imprisoned soul,

The child locked in the depths of sorrow

and chained to the walls of darkness.

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Tragically Blue


There's a girl

sitting on the edge

of the world,

touching the blue

with her fingertips,

making the sky fall.


She's no longer

a singer,

a hoper,

a lover.


She is tragically


slipping away,

turning her back

on a world she once

wanted to see.


She is tragically


keeping her hands hidden

in her pockets,

closing her eyes,

blind to a boy she once

wanted to keep.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Dedicated to NoahandJude from I'll Give You the Sun by Jandy Nelson.  I give you all of the stars.

Written 5/7/15

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Morning Touch

Your touch in the mornings is what I miss the most

The warmth of your body lying in my arms

The smell of your hair before I open my eyes

Waking to my side becoming one sixteenth of the bed

Because you had seized control of the rest throughout the night

Your snooze and snooze, and snooze and snooze and snooze

I’d give anything to be awakened by one more time

Your voice was softest in the morning

Before you were fully awake

Still half dreaming

You were everything I could possibly dream for

The one thing I need

I still reach for you in the moment I wake

Expecting there to be something besides the emptiness you left

When you would wake first and whisper sweet nothings into my ear

Thinking I was still asleep, I heard every word

I still, hear every word

Your touch in the morning is what I miss the most

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*The Day The Angels Cried*


September-16 & 17-2002 
Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins
Dedicated to those of 9/11 

The day the angels cried 
We lost our life and our pride 
The day the angels cried 
Is the day we lost our children, husband, and wives 
What has changed? 
The strength of the world, our lives 
Its been rearranged 

The one above 
He'll help us through 
All we can do is love 
The ones we adored and knew 
For that's what they would want 
Even though that day will always haunt 


Things happen for a reason 
God please help us understand 
The right to our freedom 
We feel trapped and need a helping hand 


When the angels cried 
I knew how they felt 
They had let themselves down 
And didn't know the cards that have been dealt 
And all they can do now is ware a frown 


People feel so defenseless 
Yes our lives have changed 
And the ones we lost 
We will always miss 
We will make things work at any cost 


Within your self remember 
No one can take our faith 
Because every September 
The world comes together we remain sane and safe 


The day the angels cried 
The enemy went to hide 
But the world became strong 
And soon enough we'll find 
Those who did wrong 


As we pray for those who died 
We will remember always 
The day the angels cried 
For that's the day we came as one to pray 


In our changing lives 
They will always be in our heart 
September eleventh was a day of a new start 
The day we all came together 
The day for everyone to care 
For the strangers we didn't know 
This day will be on our minds forever 
The enemy don't want to mess with us 
They don't dare 
Because no mercy towards them will we show 


Trisha M. Hopkins


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Asian Eyes

Inside a room behind
silhouetted black hair
Khmer traditional wear
Ruined Dreamer
Asian eyes
confession to
to the illusions
she created
surely weighted
with regret .
Jaded dragon`s
burned desire.
A single wet tear
a rivulet .
Pallid and breathless
as the window
is drowned with rain .
gauzy grey clouds gather .
Thunder crashes
sending the fiery ashes
of passion scattered
into pieces back
into life's creases .
Chasing the spiral
of everything that made me feel
connected now
has left me divided into
Locked in a
lightless room divided,
I can see through the smallest
of windows provided ,
past regret to the pinpoint of life
that blooms on the horizon
behind the Dark City where there`s always
an door open
to the blood moon rising .
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So subtle the fume of life designed
our God, whose love we are all confined
Created a man who was one of a kind
 He walked the path that God assigned
and further found none so thick entwined
then in James, whose light
could strike you blind
 He lit a spark on the world that shined
built a monument of words for all mankind
The beautiful moments you will rewind
With days of your youth fresh in mind
In the power of memories he will bind
And as you travel, his steps will be aligned
Along heavens ledge he'll look to find
And watch over the ones he left behind


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