And
just

the whole time you
were talking I was
watching your hands
and thinking about
how I'm going to
miss the way your
fingers drum on
your knees and
always make their
way over to me and
start a beat on every
surface of my skin.

I can't do this.

So, here I am, Thanksgiving, nine o'clock.
Drinking cherry ***** and Diet Coke in my basement, thinking about you.
I want to call you, tell you the honest-to-god truth that I love you,
but I'm drunk and you're gone.

So I wish you were here too, Thanksgiving, nine o'clock.
Being drunk and silly and dancing and kissing.
But it's just me, being drunk listening to Ladies of Cambridge on repeat.

So I really want to call you and let you know that I thought of you
at least twenty-seven times each day this week,
but I won't because I'm drunk and nervous.

So I am writing poetry alone in my basement
on Thanksgiving, nine o'clock, drunk.
Vampire Weekend makes good company, I wish you were here.

The smell of oil paint;
I'm ready to fly
home.

My wings are clipped,
my lungs full of water.
No, I don't need you.

My fingers are numb from holding on,
I'm letting go.

It's easier falling out of the sky
flying beneath your rays had grown old.

You sold my wings,
I'm drowning.

Gasping for air, gasping for air,
push me further down.

The sound of your rustling wings,
surrounded by water,
I'm going
home.

i regret keeping my eyes closed
every time you kissed me
and i regret falling asleep first
in your bedroom
i regret looking out the window
while you were driving
and i regret skipping songs
on your mixed tape
i regret the time i spent
tracing any line that
wasn't on your body
i regret every time
i laid my head on a pillow
when your chest was available
*but most of all
i regret the time it took
for me to learn that
even the things that
make you feel infinite
can't possibly last forever

i was not meant to run
through fire or hold
stars in my hands, but
my fingers are calloused
from trying.

I am
d
ru
nk
and I think I
could start
a fire with
the way you
have forced
me to feel
about you.
I just want
to hurt you is
that normal,
to love someone
so much you
start to hate
them? Please
come back.

In quiet corners
I keep
All
Those
Thoughts
Shelved
Ordered
Coded
Numbered
Archived
Stored
Safe
Far
Away
Out
Of reach
Easy
For me
To
Find
When
I
Sleep

By Siobhan O'Sullivan