My whole body is shaking.
No.
The whole house is. An earthquake?
Can't be.
Ah. Of course.
The rumbling is caused by a natural cause, my mom.
She is cursing us, telling us to **** ourselves. What should we do?
I think of ways to end it fast. Kitchen knife. Wrists.
She can't be serious, can she? She can't mean it, can she?

I wonder if all poets write about you.
A version of you
that I will never know
or never see
or never want to be with.
Endless poems filled with your thoughts and actions and feelings

I said I wouldn't, but I lied. I
Will open the window for you if you
Promise to visit me once more. I
Will let you enter and stay with me tonight, if you
Promise not to leave me again.
Not even if I ask.
Not even if I beg.

No matter how many men love me
In my mind, I'll always call them by your name.
For you were the blueprint, and they are just
******* versions.

Nothing will make me forget you,
No matter how hard I try,
No matter how long it takes.

Listening to the song that you called your favorite in 2016,
thinking about you,
wondering if maybe you are thinking about me too...

I remember watching you laugh,
Keeping close attention to the way your lips moved,
Noticing the gap between your teeth that you so desperately wanted to hide.

I remember wanting to kiss you.
To feel the warmth of you on my skin and have your
Radiating energy surround me, holding me in your embrace.

I don't think those thoughts anymore,
For I know that your body has long gone cold...