I now know that the person who breaks up the relationship has it the worst. When there is no real cause, no true animosity or reason, except that you feel like you can't believe that you've gotten this far, but how can this keep going when you have no ******* idea who the two of you are? No one ever tells you that you are left with all of pieces of the broken relationship. That there is no ammunition to get over a person, except the self loathing you feel towards yourself. You spiral down from feeling like it was the right choice, to
wondering
                why
                      you
                          even
broke up with them in the first place. And the jealousy, oh god the jealousy, it spills into your blood stream every time you thirstily grab at a blush, no make that light green, or even deep red colored bottle- does it even matter- you've tasted it every. day. of. the. week.

These pieces, they are scattered in places and in forms you would never expect them to be. You reach and try to grasp at the grey hazy spiraling memories with your hands, but they are always ever
so slightly out of
reach.  

You look at the mirror, looking at an unrecognizable face, pity rotting upon it, dragging you down like a ship drowned by the relentless wrench of the sea. Can you even blame anyone but yourself? You don't deserve to heal.

the average human
describes their heartbeat
as a thud-thud or a few
rough pats to the chest.

i fall asleep with my ear
pressed up against your
chest. all i can hear is the
echo of a captain yelling,
"let me sink...let me sink..."
i ask you how you would
describe your heartbeat,
you point to the ship
in the bottle mounted on
your father's bookshelf
& faintly say
"the glass bottle keeps the
ship from sinking, completely
blocking out the captain's wish
to learn how to breathe
underwater because air just
isn't doing its job with keeping
him alive."

your break up letter to me
went a little something like;

"you were built in the fire,
stop acting like you burn in it.
you were never made to be fragile,
you were never made to be my glass."

my plead for you to stay
went a little something like;

(20) Missed Calls

your final goodbye
went a little something like;

a thud thud to the pavement.

& my final goodbye was
cracking open a bottle on your
headstone & standing in the sea
with the water rising up to
my knees, with a small ship in
the palm of my hand, a dunk
underneath the tide & a faint
whisper, *"breathe."

and as you lay on my bed I look at you and want to throw away all of the wishes I spent on shooting stars and change that rattled in my pockets begging to be thrown in a well
just for you

But you deserve this, Nicole.
This shaken child that you now behold.
All your actions and desires brought you to this point
and the rest of your life you and your born out of sin child
will pay the price.

But, thank you for making this happen, for stealing everything less than a man away
from me, I was blinded- holding him high on a pedestal, because he was someone I though to be my love and best friend.

No more than cowards, loving each other forever. Merely 11 months in you let this everything less than a man shake your child. But remember, everything leads up to the moments we are now living and this is your life.

Have fun in Cali, with who knows who.
I wanted you to be here today-
I wanted you to be here for thanksgiving
I wanted you to be here for my 18th birthday

but really, I wanted you to be here everyday,                                                        ­                                      dad.





A year has past from when I wrote this... I maybe saw you three times in between then.....
and now.

I could guess you had at least 15 girlfriends in that time. You said you would drive up from
Boise to see me on my birthday, but it passes and it seems
that Moscow
is far from Kentucky.




Till next year.... I guess.

It's not like I would of taken you back
but it's sad that there was no fight in you to even try
If out of everything, that is what hurts the worst.
It's every girls dream to have the guy who hurt her,
and maybe my views are a little ****** up and twisted because I've
watched too many sappy love stories at night, to do something courageous
for her.
Not just flowers or an I'm sorry but a full on play music outside my window on a lawn mower
or something.
Something more than doing nothing.

What has happened to the souls from before us?
Thousands of years ago, do they haunt this earth or did their "God"
lead them to salvation or pass their soul onto the next through reincarnation?

Will our cities be ruins, like the Mayans, another lost civilization.