To love you
today.



It's time to go
somewhere warmer.

I roll over and expect to see your sleeping face, sharp nosed, dark messy hair. Your chest collapsing in a constant peaceful slumber.

I wonder when my hand will find yours again.
Or if the next hand you find will be of some delicate uncomplicated girl next door, who will never understand your darkest demons,
like I swear I do.

Run away,
and maybe someday
you’ll come running back to me.

Run away,
and maybe this day
a clear blue sky will greet you, with a glass half full
of stars beneath your soft lit eyelids, sashaying
through fields of a dream.

You ran away,
and it’s okay.

I’ve fallen all over you,
but I know the way back up.

Just take the stairs,
even if it’s hard
and your heart beats heavy
and your breathing,
fast not steady.

I can show you the way,
back from hell.
I even left a light on,
show and tell.

You held me there,
beneath your thick-skinned, heavy-hand
wrapped tightly round the frames
of my feeble heart strings.

You pushed all your fears
of my absence
into a weight I placed
deep beneath my ribcage.

Hollow and heavy,
I begged to be
the lucky one.

Recollected and spoon fed,
it took me a moment,
to see that the hand I clung to
so desperately,
was the same
that gave my demons all their energy.

And I suppose I was hypnotized,
by the way you could kiss doubt
into the back of my neck,
and call it something else.

But one day I fell asleep,
all alone
and woke to see
somewhere in my sleepwalk,
I had crawled out from underneath.
Just to find you,

far away

but still,
looking back at me.

It's like when you were a kid
and you tripped down the sidewalk,
but you didn't fall hard enough to bleed,
and nothing appears to be wrong,
from the outside,
at least,
so you shove those tear drops
back down your eye holes,
and get up,
and keep walking,

like **** that sidewalk.

Sometimes,
all the shadows
come at once
and every touch
you ever gave me,
feels like knives
gently slicing
my melting body.

Your hair texture,
imprinted on the insides
of my hands,
no matter how hard
I wash them.

And your scent,
imbedded in my
skin
so deep,
I get nauseous
just being around
me.

Pancakes
and french toast.

She had a sweet tooth
for mornings
laying flat
on her back.

Just like yours,
cotton wrinkles
indented on
freckles.

Saliva soaked
collarbones,
last nights
tequila
on your tongue.

He’d roll you over,
breakfast taco.
Kiss your neck,
turn it purple.

Smirk covered coffee,
smoke lingering
'round
chocolate covered
sleepy eyes.

All you've ever known,
simple sweets
and bacon grease;
she kept you
on your'
toes.

"I'll be back for the summer,"
and he'll pretend
you’re more
than just a morning
of goodbyes.