And all at once I disappeared,
I knew it'd happen soon,
You feel empty for a while,
Until eventually you turn to nothing.
I've been nothing for a long time,
So the feeling never surprised me,
I just hoped I get to say goodbye first,
Maybe I can save it for another day.

And all at once I disappeared,
I don't mind as much as I expected,
I've been feeling like a ghost a while now,
It was only a matter of time.

And all at once I disappeared,
I hope I won't return.

[I appreciate all of the people who have recently taken an interest in my writing since my poem was featured on the front page!]

"It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done better.

The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred
by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly;
who errs,
who comes short again and again,
because there is no effort without error and shortcoming;
but who does actually strive to do the deeds;

who knows great enthusiasms,
the great devotions;
who spends himself in a worthy cause;

who at best knows in the end
the triumph of high achievement,
and who at worst,
if he fails,
at least fails while daring greatly,

so that his place shall never be
with those cold and timid souls
who neither know victory or defeat."
-Roosevelt

Here is the line I draw in the sand.
Here are the words you spoke to me.
Here is the complete detachment of care and empathy you've shown. Here is documentation that I'm going to be alright.
There-
is the place for you in my heart.

Why do you focus on the worst in us?

These are my lips still untouched
by how much I thought you loved me.
This was the motivation I used to show you my world.
These are the walls that saw everything, here and there.
These are your letters collecting dust.
This is me staring at the place where you were supposed to be still standing.

How could you let me go?

Here is my realization.
There is your pride.
Here is the phone that won't be ringing.
Here is your realization.
There is a year gone.
Here is one of those other fish in the sea.
This is how quick I can rip that band-aid off.

Where are you running to?

This is the image of me.
The lack of my being in your life.
There- is the fading reminder of who I used to be.
This is how strongly I loved and believed you.
The only (  ) who did what ( ) did. There-- (  ) was.


This is the love that still stands.
The love that forgives and never forgets a second.
The place in our hearts that can't be filled by anyone else.
The love that knows no limit.

Here is the clock ticking, recording it all.

Here is how quickly I can rip that clock off the wall.

-r0

Well, as fun as all this was, at least I'm fast on recovery now.
Like riding a bike.
The body just remembers, I guess,
The horrible, traitorous thing.
The ears remember to ring
The stomach knows just how to clench
The head can spin all day long
And those hands
Do some truly impressive shaking
All so that the eyes can shed a couple of tears
As a result of all the trauma and sickness
And the heart doesn't have to open
Just
The ribcage.
It all remembers,
Being tortured by you
Is like
Like riding a bike.
The body knows how to suffer.
But at least it remembers how to peel itself off the floor as well.
I've got to say
The recovery's impressive
The timing
Way less than years prior.
The body has learned
Even if the mind hasn't
I have to say, props to muscle memory.