Maybe my whole body is a compacted lump of doubts and expectations, ****** choices, and lonely words at 2am.
Maybe that is what I am.
I'm made of ****-ups, uncomfortable apologies, and stolen bubble-gum *****, carelessly beaten into a
vaguely human play-doh masterpeice

It’s funny how I want to tell you everything,
and even funnier how many times i’ve tried to
only to realize you aren’t there to tell.

I want to tell you how hard it rained two days ago.
It rained so hard I think it washed away
a little more than my mascara.
I want to tell you that I was so high when you left
I don’t know if I said goodbye.

I want to tell you goodnight at 4am
and good morning an hour later.
I want to tell you that every time I wear that skirt
I was wearing when we met
I think of how much I liked the feeling of your hand on my thigh.

I know you aren’t here
but I want to tell you anyway
Telling you wouldn’t make you love me
but I want to tell you anyway
You are doing more important things than wondering
if our bodies would fit together
but I want to write this anyway.

Its a big deep breath.
a gasp
a chance
a risk.
Its an exhale.
a sigh
a relief
a release.
It feels so good while its happening
and nothing could penetrate my euphoria

until,
inevitably,
I burst it from the inside out.

The moment makes me forget–
I can believe I am silky and seamless
for a moment I am an eel and I can
glide–
its as simple as that.

But when I remember them,
my unmistakable talons,
they will tear my delicate bubble to shreds

Frantically I try to rebuild,
to put the pieces back together
before I let in the whispers,
but it is too late and I shiver in the cold.
The whispers are so cold.
so cold.

They climb and claw their way into my ears

I wish I could lay there under the weight of the whispers
and say the fault belongs to someone else,
but the longer I lay there,
the quicker I realize
the whispers come from my mouth

step 1: de·ni·al
noun
the action of declaring something to be untrue.
i thought about sending you an email today.
i got through four drafts before i quit.
i haven't talked to you in three months. i haven't deleted your messages in three months. i haven't stopped thinking about you in three months. my heart is still synced with yours. it stopped beating 131,487 minutes ago. please leave a message after the beep.

step 2: an·ger
noun
a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.
i'm glad you're gone. you were a house but you were never a home for me. i've moved three times since i left.
you shoved your fingers down my throat and left me retching in the snow, excuses tripping on their way out of your cherry bitten lips.
you made me your slaughterhouse, blood on my hands and heart.
i am made of too many things, a conglomeration the size of a galaxy, thirty people sewn into my skin. there is a hole in my chest the size of your fist. please leave a message after the beep.

step 3: bar·gain
verb
negotiate the terms and conditions of a transaction.
(maybe if i had loved you a little less you would have learned to love me back)

step 4: de·pres·sion
noun
severe despondency and dejection, typically felt over a period of time and accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy.
i spent more time thinking about you than i ever did about myself. i'm not sure if this is selfish or selfless and i'm not sure if i know the difference. i hung up on you once and you didn't speak to me for a week and i'm not sure if this is love or hatred and i'm not sure if i know the difference. i haven't spoken to you in seven months. please leave a message after the beep.

step 5: ac·cept·ance
noun
agreement with or belief in an idea, opinion, or explanation.**
you told me that acceptance was the same as tolerance.
i don't think i believe you.
i haven't spoken to you in twelve months.
please leave a message after the beep.

Inhale, Exhale, Repeat.
Close your bright eyes, they say too much.
Don’t speak, you can’t change anything.
Inhale, Exhale, Repeat. As if you are sleeping.

Stretch your body as far as you can.
Make it bigger, longer,
like you have spent your life in a smaller man’s coffin.

Be still.
Don’t blink, don’t part your trembling lips, don’t move your toe three quarters of an inch.
Be still.

Scream. LOUDER. Softer.
Scream as high as you can. Louder. You have to scream to save your life. SCREAM.

Stop.
Don’t Speak. You can’t change anything.

Look into your eyes in the mirror.
Keep looking, you can’t back down.
Don’t blink, keep looking.
Keep looking.

Blink. Blink again.
More. Faster.
Blink until you can’t see anything anymore
until you are blind

Stop.
Clench your fists. Grit your teeth. Flex your muscles.
Your arms, your legs, your toes.
Make your body tight.
Tight.
Tight.

Release.
Melt.
Collapse.
Be liquid.
Don’t speak, you can’t change anything.

It never felt like the first time.
The way your hands rested on my waist
Was so familiar
Your lips on my neck was tradition
There was never a first time
My legs have been wrapped around you since
You, and I, and the earth were indistinguishable star dust.

And it didn’t matter that I didn’t know you
Because I was so comfortable
When there was nothing to hear but the small stutter in your breath

And I don’t mind that you aren’t here anymore
Because in the darkness it’s easy to pretend
That clocks don’t exist
But right now with the sun in my eyes,
I can tell myself there’s a time and a place for everything

And it’s okay that there is so much left to say
That won’t ever be said
Because I can’t tell them how it felt
To breathe you in
Or how I couldn’t stop my fingers from gliding through your hair
It’s okay that there aren’t words to do our night justice
Because this doesn’t exist for
All the other souls to know
How my body trembled in perfect response to your gentle force,
These words are for me
So I can remember the shocking comfort of hot finger tips
On my flesh.