The days fall together
like books falling
from a shelf.

The walls have faces
where the clocks
lost hands.

And it is,
so it is,
and shall be
in a cascade of
goose-flesh
and
happiness.

Cradle, my love, in my arms
and hear the wind whisper your name.

Open your heart,
the world is cold enough already.

The storms that have
spread their grey fingers across you are such a burden.

Listen to my nursery rhyme
that drips from my lips,
and as you feel the
heavy comfort of my hand
on your head,
sleep.

"You are stronger than you think,"
she said,
not realizing
my situation
only came about
because of my weakness.

When my bed doesn't
smell like you anymore
When the bathroom isn't
cluttered with your stuff
When the closet
hangs half full of a ghost
When the kitchen
no longer smells like your cooking

And when all your smiles
fall off the walls
And my refrigerator
(so happy to have it)
screams at me with
newly bare metal...

What will be the point?

I watch the ticks tick away
seconds, to hours, and into days...
Scratching my eyes out
to get you to stay.

But time kills everything,
including this, apparently.

And so I can drink until
there's nothing left
(of me).

And so I can wet this page
until it melts away
like so much sewage.

But how long can I hold on to this?

I don't mean to you, or him, or any relationship or want of mine.

I mean to life.

You are the ocean
that fills me
sustains me.

I cannot live on
foreign waters.

My dying tongue
Parched mouth
Would ne'er sustain me
As I crawled
Hands cracked
Knees ground to the bone
To a drop
If a drop is
all you give me.

I would reject all other
rivers
lakes
seas
rains
for the one drop from you and
the sweet taste of your waters.

If there is a ghost of you
these are the edges
the cheek-turn,
the second-guesses,
the body-lean
the back I face
as I only cry this blood
wishing for your grace.