He called me love.
But I don't think of him
I don't think about the smile in his eyes
or the way our thoughts used to play
without moving our mouths
I don't think about us tongue-tied and shy
or how hard we tried.

Because thinking about him makes the muscles in my face hurt from tension. Less emotion and memory and more physical pain
A blatant, stubborn refusal
to let myself go back to that place...

He called me Love
and I think we had a love affair
but I was only
halfway there

Now he's nothing
but
the echo of a ghost
on quiet, rainy, nights
like this

I fit in my body pretty great,
    but not so much in my brain

It's all just numbers, isn't it?
Day by day,
Year by year,
Always counting.

Day by day look at the number on the scales.
Let the caloric calculator count until your head is filled with numbers.

Minute by minute count the seconds it takes for him to text you back.
Let the doubt and fear multiply until your head is full of him.

Term by term let a percentage on a piece of paper define your worth.

Don't we have better things to do than count?

Quiet down my dear heart
And let your silence call him into your chambers

i need to stop
setting myself on fire
to keep you warm.

Where the child will go?
A mother's calling, child!
Where are you running?
Stay where you are, until
You get wings to fly above

Dad, I am going to try and write this
It may be a poem
It may not
But from my heart
I miss you
I remember the last time I kissed you
Your eyes were closed
They opened wide
As I kissed your forehead
In that terrible place
So white and clean
Where people die
But you will never die
Dad
I love you so much
And you will always live on
In my heart
Forever
God, I miss you so much
It's so hard to write through the tears