that long-distance relationships
do not exist.
that love doesn't care if it's three
feet apart or three thousand
miles between.

strangely,
the feelings of emptiness
are quite heavy.

it was 4am when
i noticed his text.
“are you up?” he asked.
rubbing my eyes, i answered,
“yeah. need to talk?”
because anyone who is awake
at 4am is either heartbroken
or in love.

i’m so sorry
that no one saw the dangers
of a sleeping sixteen-year-old
being kissed by strangers.

here, we do not talk about the mistakes.
we do not bring them to the light,
we let them sit inside our dark places,
let them fester and rot; eventually,
we let them **** us.
it’s only a matter of time, you see.
but we never speak of them.

i walked in,
found him laying on the floor
wearing jeans and a sweater,
and he was shivering.
it was July.