your eyelids,
shielding your eyes
on a rainy day.

the lint
in your pants.

the guitar pick
you strum with.

the makeup
on your face.

the maths book
you draw all over.

the stickers
on your locker.

you strum the instrument
playing with my heart
we’re on the park bench
saying “i love yous”

the world melts into oblivion
between our summer

you
leave in the dead of night
with your spit on my lips

march comes and goes
like a heart throb
in may
i break it off
like ****** bread
biting my heart into pieces

crying on the carpet floor
for a whole month previous
and a whole month after

you play in the radio beat
and then you go on

ferris wheels
taunt the imagination
of my tap
running on too long

empty eyed
i think about our
“always”
and how
they’re always
a lie

colours around me
fish me up to the light
when i clawed myself
down this deep hole

i feel the sun
i feel the “after you”
i taste the glory
everything
i missed out on

i brea
th
i
brea
l
th

in and out

take my breath that you stole from my lungs
put it back in my rotting stomach
swallowing hard
you sleep
in a nightmare
piled in the
trash out the back

i keep stepping
in the place with no bridge
head up high up so tall
there’s nothing to see beneath

you become tv static
a pedestrian
at the streetlights
a name
recycled

eaten by a long hole
taken by a fire
or left as nothing at all

sugar bomb rests between
unbrushed teeth
i chew

slowly

staring out the window that can’t be turned off

hands reaching out to the far wall
uncoloured bony aliens

ten tablespoons of pasta soup
chinese medicine
a peice of bread
three sips
of water

if one day i see you
standing in the dairy isle
at the supermarket,
don’t greet me
with a forced “hello,”
if you’re not willing
to conjure a proper goodbye.