ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
*the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear*
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
I want someone to look me in the eyes
like nothing else matters
I want to wake up to him
or a text from him or something more
than the empty feeling in my chest
I want someone to share random thoughts with
I want him to pull me into
his jacket and zip us up inside
I want to talk to someone
about theories, ethics, words,
the universe and more
I want someone to call me at one in the morning
and tell me to look at Polaris
I want him to pick me up unexpectedly
and make me laugh hysterically until I snort
I want someone to trade literature with,
sleep in with, cuddle with
I want someone to miss me when we're apart
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
is there a reason why I can't imagine my life ten years from now?
people know what they're passionate about
I used to know what I was passionate about
until real life hit me like a truck
and shattered my dreams into fragments on the concrete of my self-doubt
why am I so afraid of my future yet so unsatisfied with my present?
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
At the end of the day
On December 25th
I like to sit in the dark
And stare at the tree
I'm supposed to be happy
Spending time with family
But all I can think about
Are your hands around my waist
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Hear it in your parents' words;
in their sugar-coated testimony of disappointment
and let it
writhe around your neck,
until the ground neath you
slips.
(For your own sake,
don't struggle.)
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Are you alive? Or just breathing?
To judge whether I'm alive or just simply breathing is significant.
For seasons I've been heaving through corrupt lungs,
trying to find the little piece that will save me.
I've been breathing for as long as I can remember.
Maybe this drowning will subside and I can finally be alive.
Months have made me more alive.
Each day living and feeling everything. Alive feels so free and up lifting.
But here I am again.
Questioning in this very moment whether I'm alive or just breathing. And I think at this point I'm just trying to make my chest rise through the night.
It feels so good to be alive.
I just want to get back to the me that never had to remind myself to breathe.
I want it to be an automatic and harmonious inhale of life.
-a.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 1:03 AM UTC
It's like hearing the ticking of a time bomb
But not able to find where it’s coming from
Until you put your hand to your chest
And then you realize
That the bomb is your heart
And the tick, ticking
Is
Its
Beat.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
I keep
forgetting to
forget you,
neglecting to
regret you.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC