The worst part
Isn't the pain
Though it hurts

The worst part
Isn't the sadness
Though that's horrible

No,
The worst part
Is the emptiness

That feeling
When you don't see the step
And you fall down

When you try to sit down
And someone's moved the chair

When you reach for support
Only to find it's abandoned you

That is the worst part
Of saying goodbye

There is really nothing
that can hold more promises
than a duffel bag.

All you see is clothing
but you keep glancing over at it,
waiting to find more

because it fills you
with hope of a better place.
Says "I am leaving,"

and you know that soon,
at least for a short while, that
travel holds you tight.

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
  The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
  None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
  You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you,
  In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
  Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
  And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
  Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.

Sometimes I think I'll never stop missing you
until the air around me is no longer mine to breathe.

Your birthday was last week.
I called but the line was dead, the number disconnected.
Should have been expected,
you simply cannot drag these things out forever.

I wanted to hear your voice, that's all.
You didn't leave me a whole lot to remember you by,
other than a couple of memories
but with winter nearing those are starting to wither.

If only you had given me a warning,
a shot at making life work without you,
it would have been much fairer, don't you think?

You could have pushed a little harder,
you were busy doing it anyway.
If you could do it all over again, would you still go
even knowing of all the broken hearts
you'd be leaving behind?

hey, are you doing anything?
i’ve been reading a lot of poetry and i was wondering
if you wanted to stay up all night again
and when i say stay up all night again
i mean let’s not sleep a single hour
roll around on the floor again
chlorine scented hair
and warm hands
under torn shirts
and let’s go swimming in my grandmothers pool
in our underwear at two in the morning
float on our backs to see the stars
maybe we’ll catch the sun rise just over the neighbors roof
or maybe we’ll dry off
and eat melted klondike bars in the driveway
and i’ll be tempted to lick the chocolate off of your
fingers

hey, are you doing anything?
let’s hold each other’s face
like we’re stopping earth’s orbit
and pretend the sun won’t rise anytime soon