We've all burnt things
haven't we?
bridges,
cakes,
hands
our feet on the sands
where time always seemed to
stand still.

I have to put down,
set down, get down
these lines
before I forget,

Later,
I shall wonder why.

The roots don’t grow from the trees
They have no
Roots
And we
Are
Saying what we will make them be
But even the words don't matter
Its always tossed
                                              up in the      wind
We watch it float up higher until its
Gone

Paid actors on a stage
Animals rampaging both directions
Different colored animals
And the sound of a songbird can’t last long
Inside such anger

And I can’t free myself
Inside such pain

It’s in these moments
Of complete and utter isolation
Where we feel as though we don’t even know who we are
Where we begin to truly understand ourselves for the first time

Its only been a week since I last heard your voice

But I'm already starting to forget the sound of it as you whispered my name

Some nights when my mind is flooded with questions and memories and longing for you, I block my number

I call you.

I'm not sure why, because if you picked up the phone I don't think I would have any words to say.

But I know you never pick up blocked numbers.

So I know I'll here your voice on your voicemail.

I know I'll feel the tingling in the back of my throat

As I hang up the phone again.

The tears will trickle down my cheeks.

They'll burn holes into my pillow while I bury my face

Trying to escape this worthless feeling.

The voices in my head will come out to play.

Reminding me I am unwanted, I don't deserve to be loved, of course he didn't love you, no one ever will.

When the madness slows down for a second, I am able to find sleep.

And I still don't understand why I keep picking up that phone to call you in the first place.

But here I am. Dialing your number once again.

-c.m.