as she crossed the bridge,
she dropped a match on each plank.
she let it burn;
begged it to, even.
severing ties wholly had never been her thing,
but this time was different.
this time, she needed to cut ties
like the ribbons she split
trying to open presents on christmas day.
in order to reach the happiness inside,
she first had to cut the ties
and remove what was in her way.
the wrapping paper may have been beautiful,
but it smothered everything.
it was always in the way.
and it was time to move past that.
so she crossed the bridge and looked back,
"just one more time," she said.
one tear slipped,
a sacrifice for all of the broken promises
and twisted lies.
another slipped,
as all of the nights spent with stomach pains
from laughing too hard
and groggy mornings
from staying up all night whispering
lit up with shades of orange and red.
then she turned on her heel and ran,
before the ashes could choke her out.

sometimes i just want to write.
sometimes i just want to say,
“i still remember the way you hurt me.”
and sometimes, i want to say,
“it still hurts, you know.”
sometimes i want to let you know
how angry i am.
sometimes all i want to say is,
“*******,” and “goodbye.”
sometimes i want to write down
all of the words i’m too afraid to say, like
“i liked your pajama pants” or
“you’re uglier than i remembered” or
“i still cry myself to sleep sometimes
because i miss you so ******* much.”
sometimes i talk about things that are,
versus things that were,
and i like to decide which is better.
when the words just don’t come out right?
well that can be the worst.
because there’s a lot that i want to say,
but no way to articulate it.
i guess now is one of those times.
there’s no real words to say
how lonely i feel, with no one to talk to
when you’re not around.
how scared i am, of failing.
how happy i am, that i can almost say
we’ve been together for
“a year” instead of “five-six-seven months.”
how tired i am, without someone
or something to stimulate me.
there’s a lot that can change,
and a lot that can happen when you leave home.
it’s a chance to spread your wings,
but what do you do when
you don’t know where to fly to?
for now, i’ll walk to the library and get a coffee,
and try to finish this paper
before you get back home with me.
maybe then i won’t be so lonely
or scared or tired.
and we can crawl into bed together
like every weekend before,
and we can watch movies
and we can eat popcorn
and grow old together.
sometimes, this is all i really want to do.
and almost always,
this feels better than having something to say.

what i miss about you
is the things we never got to do.
i miss the way you ran your fingers
through my hair,
tucking it behind my ear sometimes.
i miss how you would have held me,
and never let me go.
i miss sitting on your roof
and watching the stars,
and then drinking coffee while
we snuggled in your blanket
and watched the sunrise.
i miss watching the sunset
on your beach,
all colors of the rainbow
flashing in our eyes.
what i miss is everything you
told me we could do,
but never got to.
or everything i dreamed to myself.
i guess what i'm trying to say is,
i don't miss the real you at all.

did you honestly believe that?
that one day,
you might get to learn how i
feel
and taste?
and what i sound like when i cry?
how it feels to hold more than just my pillow?
you're more of a ******* idiot than i thought,
baby.
you were always the one to be silly;
i never knew to take you seriously.
sorry, darling.
i've moved away, i've moved on.
i suggest you do the same.

he pressed her against the wall,
the white tile leaking its cold temperature
deep into her bones.
she grabbed the rod for balance
as his tongue grazed her skin.
her fingers tangled immediately in his wet curls,
his hand cupped her cheek.
heavy moans slipped into each other's mouth
when fingers roamed.
when the heat is high,
she never knows if she'll make it out alive.
but sometimes it's all she's got.

i want to run away
more than words could say
but i'm afraid
my wings
are clipped.