home alone,
i sit down on the kitchen floor,
cradling my heart in my hands.

i see your face in my mind,
and my heart shatters in my palms,
a few pieces cutting my fingers.

two-thirds of a bottle of jack later
i don't feel the pain anymore.
everything's hazy, everything's blur.

then your face floats up
out of my sub-conscious drunkenness
and my stupid heart starts to hurt again.

i finish the bottle in five quick swigs.
there's a burn in my chest,
but somehow it doesn't hurt as bad

as the wounds you left in your wake.
i fall asleep, cheek against
the cold tiled kitchen floor,

and stumble back into consciousness
the next morning, swearing and groaning,
but with the daylight comes

the clarity of the memories
i've been trying so hard to push away.

you've been taking pieces of me away,
one by one, slowly.
you thought i would not notice.

i did.

you took my breath away,
when we first met,
you with your brilliant grin,
you with your expressive eyes
and you with your love for life.

you took my heart away,
when you left,
you with your short clipped tones,
you with your emotionless eyes,
and your with your cold shoulder.

and now you leave me here,
with a hollow emptiness
where my heart used to be.

but perhaps there is nothing
you can leave behind,

for what's a body without a heart?

when you wake up tomorrow
i will be gone. my space in the
bed will be empty, but i'll fold
the sheets on my side back neatly,
it'll be as though i was never there.

don't panic. the key is
under the mat, the same
place we always put it,
even though i've told you a
thousand times that there are
a million better hiding places for it.

there's a bowl of fruits on the table, i
bought them this afternoon while
you were away at work. i should
have put them in the fridge, but
i thought you'd like to see how
pretty the apples are before you
cut them apart.

my gray toyota will be gone from
the garage, but that's the only thing
i'm taking with me, i promise, aside
from the clothes on my back. i'll sit
in that car, eighty an hour and the
radio loud, trying not to think about
leaving you behind without a goodbye.

i see your face in my mind
as i drive away, your forehead
crinkled the way it always is when
you don't understand something. you'll
read this note and wonder why i left,
but please, don't look for me.

some say love is holding on,
some say it's letting go,
and all i know as i turn the key in the ignition
is that some journeys have to be made alone.
i know you're probably hurt, lost and afraid,
but so am i. i don't know why i know
within myself that this is the right thing to do,

but don't wait up for me.

do our hearts really break?
or are they just bent into a new shape,
ready to fit into a new person's?

if i could tell you i would let you know.

who are we, really?
behind the laughter, the tears
behind the people we pretend to be
what are we made of?

if i could tell you i would let you know.

do we stay the same
our whole lives
or do we shed our past selves,
evolving into a new version
of us, free of the shadows
that used to haunt our hearts?

if i could tell you i would let you know.

why do we change for people?
why do we pretend to be people we're not
just to mold ourselves
into a warped version of the people
we used to be?

who are we, really?

*if i could tell you i would let you know.

when i was nine,
you punched the guy who
stole my teddy bear. that's how
we first met. i shared my peanut
butter and jelly sandwich with
you at lunch, because it was the
only way i knew how to say thanks.

when i was thirteen,
your family used to come over
to our house, and we'd have
dinner together. my parents,
your parents; my brother, your
sister. you and me.

when i was fourteen,
i dated a boy three years older
than we were. you were always
worried that something would happen,
you didn't trust him. i never knew
it was because you loved me.
you were right.

when i was fifteen,
my boyfriend hit me. he punched me
because he thought i was flirting
with a friend. he drove me, unconscious,
to a hospital, but we crashed into
another car. he was drunk. your
parents and mine were in that car.
your dad died, and so did both my parents.
i never knew so much pain.

when i was seventeen,
we dated for a while, but then
you went away. you never called,
never answered my calls. it was like you
disappeared from the face of the earth.
i lost my best friend, i lost the boy i loved.

when i was twenty-one,
i met you at a masquerade party
thrown by one of our friends. you didn't
recognize me. i found out you were
in a car accident, and you'd lost your memory.
we started again, from the beginning.

when i was twenty-two,
we fell in love all over again.
you started to remember little things
from the past, but to me you were always
the same parker i had always known.
the same parker i fell in love with.

when i was twenty-three,*
you asked me to marry you.
i said yes. but people are people,
and sometimes we change our minds.
i remember crying, pressing the ring
into your palm, telling you i couldn't do this.

when i was twenty-four,
our best friends got married. i met
you at the wedding, and we decided to
give it another shot. it worked, and we
finally, finally tied the knot.

when i was twenty-five,
we had our first child. he was a handful.
you were a doctor, i was a lawyer.
both busy, both new to this life.
we had our first fight at 2.33am,
and i ran out of the house. you followed me,
and told me i'd never be alone. i believed you.

now, i'm twenty-seven.
we had another child, a beautiful girl.
but you're never home. your
job keeps you out till late at night,
and i never know where you are.
i saw you at the grocery store, with
another woman. i was upset, i accused
you without even knowing what was
going on. i was wrong. i told you
i wanted a divorce. the look on your face
made my heart break.

i regret it. i regret everything.
but if i could go back in time
and meet you again, knowing
i would end up losing you, i would
still choose to love you, because
loving you was worth losing you.
we were always parkerandlissa,
neither complete without the other.

i'm so so sorry,
and i will miss you.

"round and around and around
and around we go."

she hurt you and you
hurt me and i
probably am hurting him too,
but that's life for you.

you call me at 3am,
every day, like clockwork.
the routine's the same; i slide
out of bed, change, and meet you
and the diner down the street.

you say the same things; how
you can't sleep now that she's gone
and how instead of wanting her back
you just want a second chance to
get things right.

i sit there, etch an expression
of sympathy onto my face, reach out,
and hold your hand. but all i'm thinking
is how my heart aches when yours does, how
i wish i could be the one to piece you
back together again.

suddenly i hate her,
the girl who did this to you,
because she had it all, *your love,
and she threw it away.

but then i look at her face and i realize
it's not her fault, it never was.
the problem with paper hearts
is that it's never a clean break,
just a messy tear.

all the words i speak will never be enough
to heal the hole in your heart
because those words come from my heart,
not from hers.