sometimes i remember what i think i wanted to say,
what i was trying to say the entire time.

i go to write it down,
it disappears.

i don’t remember what poems i showed you,
but i remember hating myself afterword.

wanting to know how or why i felt all these things,
and you took photos of empty spaces.

you were all big words,
our relationship was your bed and me naked in it,
trying to take up less space
and i guess i succeeded in that-
i've disappeared altogether now.

you hated my unfiltered words
because they made me sound broken,
waiting to be fixed.
you were always trying to put me back together
and i was always trying to be
less than ten thousand pieces-
or at least enough to fill you with.

you left a bruise on my forearm
pressed in by a thick thumb and index

used to joke about my fragile limbs
how easily you could break me

“tell me when it hurts”
you used to say,

the burn of gripped knuckles
holding soft flesh
insides my thigh

"enough to leave a mark?"
i never checked afterword.

all the air that knocked me down
came from the deflated balloons
of your lips

popped with
the same thorn stemmed flower
you plucked for me
after our first funeral

left it on my windowsill
watched it die
then tapped it to my wall

a reminder
something can be as beautiful
living
as it is
dead

one day
i ripped the tape from the wall
because your ashes needed to be burned
and spread


because i didn’t miss you anymore

do you think about what you eat everyday and what that says about you?

do you ever get tired of walking the same way home?
do you like to fall asleep warm at night?

when was the last time you felt pure joy when looking at something?

what color best describes your mood right now?

are you a sun person or a moon person?

if the sun were a fruit what fruit would it be?

if the moon were a cookie what would it taste like?

do you ever get nervous when you walk into a room full of people?

do you ever walk down the street and see things that make you want to cry?

do you ever get sad looking at children realizing that part of you is gone forever?

do you ever wish you could read books twice for the first time?

you make my heart feel like rotten plum
soupy pulp beneath thin skin
waited too long to take a bite

now i’d like to see how you feel
watching someone else
sink their teeth in

a list of everything you thought you knew about him

a list of everything he promised he would do to make up for his bad behavior

a list of all the things he said we would do together and never did

a list of ways in which our relationship was drenched in misogyny from the begining

a list of every detail you forgot was important to me

a list of every anniversary, birthday &special moment you missed because you cared more about your pride than you did me

a list of every manipulative ****** up thing you’ve ever said, to me, at me, around me

a list of every girl you flirted with in front of me just so you could see me crumble by the end of the night

a list of every girl you may or may not have ****** while we were on a break

a list of every girl you may or may not have ****** while we were dating

a list of every time you looked at me with loathing in your eyes

a list of every time i told you i loved you and “thank you” was your reply

every morning i forget who i am
i paint my toes red once a month with ****** nail polish
i got for free at my old job
i drink luke warm coffee
too jittery to make a full nother ***

every morning i forget who i am
i wake up in a fog of everything I’ve ever not finished
and attach it to failure and attach that to my personality

i forget why i take photos or that i like photos

i forget that i don’t love you anymore
i forget you made me hate me
i forget you made my life a living hell for as long as i allowed you too
i forget that i’m not allowing that anymore
i forget that i love myself now
so every morning i relearn how

blurring the lines between real and fake

i begin to wonder what life feels like looking through your eyes

my photos above your wall street desk

your hair always perfectly combed to one side

i feel like i don’t know you at all

like a specimen

i looked at you for so long

and it all still seems somehow foreign and familiar
the way you move around your room after a day of work
putting everything back in its exact place
like it never happened in the first place