to stare death in the face
and say yes, it was i
who was ready for you, not the other way round
to know what it is to hold both
apprehension and eagerness for each day
in the palm of each hand

to have heard the sound of waves on the sand
at an early age and never
quite forget the sound of the ocean's voice
to be able to know in the depths of one's soul
that life has been lived breathing the sea-salt
air that fills a pelican's lungs

is to be ready when death knocks, cold-faced
and stone-hearted as usual
and to live with the knowledge that life
has been breathed to its fullest -
to let the tides carry you home -
to belong eternally with the song of the sea.

find what you love
(and let it **** you)

you know how it is.
your heart, that stupid muscle
somehow lays her hands on a jump-rope
and skip-skip-skips her way
closer to breaking
every time you think of him.

you should be used to this by now.
after all, he's only the latest in a long
string of boys who somehow
gave your heart that godforsaken jump-rope.

it's so predictable that you nearly roll your eyes
at yourself - or at least you do mentally -
but still you can't help it
you always were a romantic at heart.

for your inability
to hide a single thing you feel -
for your quiet willingness
to listen to me talk about the world;
about the beauty of being alive,
about warmth on cold days
and perspectives you never imagined
you would someday hear ;

for your unashamedness
to tell me all the things
you don't like about yourself
but for your determination to be
the best version of you
you know how to be ;

for how different you are from
every single person i have ever known -
for your never ending reassurance
that i am worth so much more than i know
that my emotions and problems
are worth giving a voice to ;

for your silence
and for your laughter
for your tears
and for your wisdom
for your pride
and for your insecurities

thank you for showing me someone
so much like me yet so different
so stable yet so unsure
someone i have known my whole life yet -
someone i have yet to know.

i am briar-rose's castle;
my heart is the sleeping beauty within
under the curse of a hundred years
and only eighteen have passed so
God help the prince who tries to cut
his way through the thorns
because these vines are dark magic
just like the rest of me - under
a spell that will not break.

you know what it is.
the shapeless shadows of a dying youth,

the hollow longing to hear
a voice you know you'll never hear again,
to feel a touch you know
you'll never feel again,
to see a familiar smile except this time
you know it's not because of you.

it's bottles and bottles of empty faces
swaying past you one after another all trying
to fill the gap he left, all trying
to know you as he did
but their arms feel different,
tattered flags on skeletal rods -
their voices sound different,
the cries of vultures circling the air.

you made me lonely,
but lonely for you.
and no matter how many places i see
or how many people i meet i will never
ever stop loving you.

i know what you think.
i can read it on your face,
it oozes out through your pores
drips from your eyes
like salt-filled tears at a funeral.

i know what you think.
i can read the silent judgement,
i can see that ******* pity
cloaking your whole being
like a snake right before it squeezes
the life out of you or me or both of us.

and i hate it.
i hate that you feel obligated to help me,
but you don't know how.
i hate that you think i deserve better,
because i know i do not.
i hate that the only thing you can offer
is a pathetic "stay strong",
because those words have been repeated so many times
over that they cease to have any meaning at all.
i hate that you want to help me,
because i don't want your help, *******,
i just wanted you to listen without the slightest shred
of commitment or concern.

let's turn back time a little.

back to right after you asked me if i was okay
and i said i was
and you saw the walls reflected in my face
and you knew.

but you didn't push it.
and that's for the best, because i am
a whirling storm of lightning and rain and thunder
and clouds almost as black as my eyes.

don't force me to have to save you
from the person i know i have become
if i can't even save myself
from me.

because the truth is -

i still wear your favorite perfume every single ******* day;
it reminds me of you
i still take hour-long bus rides home on double-
decker buses, sit at the back and cry
when our song comes on shuffle.
i still flinch every time i hear your name,
still tear up every time i see you smile because i know
it's no longer because of me.

i still feel what's left of my heart crack and burn
when i see pictures of you and her because oh,
that used to be me.
i still lie in bed at night wondering if things
could be different if i hadn't let you go, if i had fought
for the things i loved, for the person i loved.

i still struggle to put into words
how much i loved you, how much i love you, how much
i will continue to love you because the truth remains
that my stupid, stupid heart can never let you go.

it's staring your reflection in the eye,
dripping wet and naked after a shower,
realizing with a sort of cruel stiff detachment that
your eyes are so dark you can see another version of yourself reflected in them

it's crying till you hyperventilate because of the sharp
hurt in your
chest on some days
and not being able to shed a single tear despite the ache on others

it's being terrified of yourself because you
can't
decide which is worse - being dead or dying.

it's watching your hands shake as you try to explain
how you feel without simultaneously dissolving into the very
shards of glass you're trying to put back together

it's slamming the doors of your heart shut
to every single good-intentioned well-meaning soul
who's ever had the misfortune of attempting to make you open up
because kindness be ******, you know deep within yourself
that you are beyond saving

it isn't always plain to see but
you can feel it every single waking moment
and you can't even remember what it was like to not have it
creeping in your life, ******* the air out of your lungs,
draining away your joy

it's the despair you feel on dark days when
the realization that it will be with you for your whole
life hits you and god, you just wish you could end it right there.

but you don't.

you crawl into bed with eyes blurry from tears and a nose so blocked you can't even breathe and you
wake up the next morning and you do it all over again
but somehow you hang on to the hope that one day,
one day things could be different and even though you know
it's more likely that you'll be in despair your whole life
you let that small shred of hope tide you through because
without it you would be dead
and you accept that this is your life now,

and it will be for a long time to come.

it hits you mid-shower,
as you're half trying to keep soap-suds
out of your eye and half attempting to figure out
if you've got split ends yet -

one minute you're thinking of nothing at all
and the next you suddenly realize,
you love him.
you like him? you love him? the word ceases to matter.

oh god, you love him.

you love him for how the corners of his eyes
crinkle up when he laughs,
for how he cares if you're home safe,
for how the first thing on his bucket list
is for his grandmother to hold his first child.

for how you could sit with him for hours with
nothing but your shoulders touching,
and be complete in the warmth he exudes
in comfortable silence.

for how he talks and how he walks,
for how he looks at you,
for how his eyes seem to have endless depth.

and the funny thing is that you know you've lost the game
but you don't care that you've lost, you don't care
if he loves you back or if he doesn't because
in that moment you have remembered
what it is to love a person not for what they look like
or for what they sound like but for who they are

and the knowledge that after two whole years of bitterness
and hiding away in your shell
you have discovered what it is to love again
and nothing else matters in that moment because
for what it counts you have found yourself again
in loving someone and you realize that

your heart has so much left to give; who you
choose to give it to does not matter as much
as the knowledge that you are capable of loving,
the kind of love that does not fear hurt or pain
but embraces it as part of the essence of love.

do you ever feel the way i feel?

do you ever stand six feet deep
in the messes you've created
wondering how the hell you're going to get out?

i sift through my past once a week,
flip the pages back ten at a time,
trying to pinpoint where exactly
i went wrong.

but that one page i seek
is strangely elusive. all i can tell,
magnifying glass gripped tightly in one hand
and a bottle of jack clasped in the other
is that i've ridden this downward spiral for too long now.

reaching out, i switch on the radio;
and that one song, it goes on and on.

who i used to be
and who i'll be tomorrow.*

i'm not sure who i am anymore.
chasing the ideals of someone i'm not
reaching for the goals of someone
i don't really know myself to be
i got lost, tangled up in dreams
that disappear as soon as they touch my fingertips.

the person in the mirror doesn't even
look like me anymore. those
dark circles under her eyes from many
sleepless nights, the chapped lips
and the dry knotted hair. that isn't me,
that can't be me.

yet within myself i know that she and i,
we're one and the same.

who am i?

we don't get to choose
when and where we fall in love,
or who we fall in love with.
we place our hearts on the line,
flip the pages one by one
and just like that
our story is written.

sometimes pain is inevitable.
sometimes he's your romeo
but you're not his juliet.
sometimes you still feel his ghost
two years after it's ended
and you close your eyes
and wish the pain away.

but this is love,
raw and real, a sharp physical pain
in your chest when you least
expect it. i still see myself
in the places where you are
dreaming of what could have been,
or what could be.

love is out of our control.

but darling, all i ask
is that you open your heart
to everything love is,
let yourself feel the passion, the pain
embrace wholly everything
it can show you, and beyond everything
never be afraid to fall
because it teaches us things
we would never otherwise have known.

"i hate the beach
but i stand in California
with my toes in the sand."*

i reach a leg out, dip my toes
in the slowly lapping waves.
looking out, i see the ocean,
stretching for what seems to be
forever and ever and ever.

just like what you promised.
"forever and always," you said.
and i believed you, like the stupid
lovesick fool i was. i should have
known ; forever never lasts
when i'm with you.

people are a lot like the ocean,
i realized. turbulent but calm,
docile and quiet when unprovoked
but with the tendency to roar when angry.
that was you. but i suppose

that was also me, because stripped
down to the bareness of our souls
you and i are one and the same.

we are the ocean,
beautiful but treacherous,
stretching as far as the eye can see,
forever and ever and ever.

yes, you.
you with your stupid big brown eyes
that see everything, even though
you're sensitive enough not to say a word.

you with your stupid hair
that i never thought i'd be writing about
because i always tell you how unattractive it is.
i guess my heart decided to run to you just the same.

you with your constant concern,
your ability to see right through me,
even when my walls are built so high
that no one else bothers to try
you're still there chipping away at it,
gently trying to get me to open up.

you told me once that you fall for character,
not for looks. that was before all this.
before you and i started long talks,
before i started to feel i could talk to you about anything,
before, before, before.
when i was still guarded, when i could still breathe.

but i know this won't change anything.
despite my sudden realization that
perhaps, just perhaps, you wormed your way
into my heart after all, i know you're
not going to stay. why would you?

my heart belongs to you,
but your heart belongs to her.

i think i love you, i can't be sure.
but if i didn't my heart wouldn't hurt this much,
so i guess i do after all.

it was your stupid pretty brown eyes,
that's what it was.

i step out
and i'm surrounded,
like i've already lost the fight.
the wind flies in my face,
whispering your name in my ear.

i pull my scarf up,
past my nose, past my ears ;
i just want to forget
your **** voice.

it's autumn, red and orange
leaves glide down silently,
a few brush my shoulders
as though mocking me;
a ghost of last year.

i pull my jacket tighter
around my small body ;
i just want to forget
your **** touch.

it's a long walk to
the bridge i saw you last,
my dark eyes melting into
your honey ones.

eventually i look over into the black water,
and instead of seeing my reflection
it's your face staring back at me.

i can't forget.

"be bold, be brave, be strong."*

reaching out,
my fingers come into contact
with the smooth hard surface
of a cold stone wall.

where have you gone?

you are a sliver of beauty tonight.
i see you from inside
this well. i can hear the sound
of my own breathing, slow
and steady against the silence.

am i safe or am i trapped?
nothing from the outside can get in,
but i cannot escape.

oh, moon, silver moon,
where did you go?

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.

you're okay, love.
you're okay.
take deep breaths, shoulders shaking;
grip the edge of the sink like
there's no tomorrow,
feel the cool porcelain beneath your palms.

turn on the tap.
watch the water gush out;
tilt your head back, watch
the broken lightbulb on the ceiling
buzzing.

deep breaths, love.
scoop the ice-cold water with both
your palms, marvelling
at the subtle roughness of your
fingertips, and the rest of your
hands covered in small imperfections.

splash the water on your face,
wipe away the tear tracks,
wash away the smudged mascara.

you'll be okay, love.
this has happened so many times.
shoudn't you be used to it by now?
square your shoulders, look me
in the eye. whisper to me,
almost as if you mean it,
"i'm strong. i'll be fine.
i am fine."

push the bathroom door open;
go out there, face the world.
you're okay, love.
you're okay.

i loved you before i met you.

i spent my whole life
weaving fantasies for myself,
pulling different threads from different people
spinning them into a dream.

and then i met you,
someone who was everything
but nothing all at once;
and in loving you i lost myself.

but hurricanes are named
after people, darling;
and you were the one storm
i could not weather.

a night sky,
dark clouds,
and a million small stars

scattered,
almost as if God himself
decided to weep tiny diamonds
for us.

we should be so much more than this.

"oh, my lover,
let's start over,
will we ever say we're sorry?
it's not going to get better
if we never say we're sorry."

i'm caught in the passing,
a dream and reality
crossing paths.
where do i turn?
which way do i go?
i look up at the stars,
as though they could answer me,

but all the constellations;
they spell your name.

and i think
if i could turn back time now,
knowing i would fall in love with you
and then lose you,
i would still choose
to turn back time
and fall in love with you
all over again

because loving you
was worth losing you.

it's been so long since
we sat on top of that hill
that warm California night
and looked down
on all those little lights of the city.

we lay on the grass, your
head next to mine,
my dark hair spread out behind me
and our soft breathing in
unison with the beat of our hearts.

you kissed my cheek,
and in the silence after you pulled away
i threaded my fingers through yours
and i knew then, i knew,
i could never love anyone else.

i saw the tender sadness in your eyes,
as you tucked a flyaway piece
of my hair behind my ear,
and i squeezed my eyes shut,
bracing myself for what i knew would come.

when i opened them again
i was gazing up at the stars,
and when i turned to look at you
you were gone.

they say there's a reason for
every beautiful heartache,
and that night i wished upon the stars
that you'd never have to leave.

but you made your choice;
and now you live among the stars.

dear daddy,
you were there throughout my
childhood, but when i
say that i mean it physically, of
course. you weren't really
there emotionally.

dear daddy,
as i grew up i watched you
fight with my mom,
i sat through the cold dinners
and at ten i watched my mum
slam a calculator on the table
before walking out the door.

dear daddy,
i was sixteen when you kicked my
brother out of the house. he was
only fourteen, daddy,
he couldn't look after himself.
it was your ****** pride, that's
what it was.
yours and his.

dear daddy,
at seventeen we barely spoke,
i remember the bitterness
i held in my heart;
you couldn't even get a proper job,
couldn't even look after this family,
made mom do all the work.
my brother didn't live with us,
he was at an aunt's house, far away from
the fire we knew would start if you
both were in the same room.

dear daddy,
twenty crept up on me like a ghost
and i saw the lines in your face
age catching up with you as
you began to forget,
where your keys were,
whether you brought your phone back from
the car, what time dinner was.

dear daddy,
twenty-one now, and i still
don't know how to feel about you.
you tried your best, i suppose,
and i love you with a sort of grudging
nonchalance, because who am
i to tell you that you need to change?

dear daddy,*
i'm conflicted. i love you because
i know i should, because i
admit you're human too. you tried
your best, i know you did
and i wish i could change my mind
but i hope you'll forgive me
for seeing a stranger when i look at you.

it's funny how things changed;
how we went from best friends
to strangers,
how we went from promising
we'd always be there for each other
to apologizing for the inevitable goodbye.

and i think now,
that "sorry" i blurted
was never enough,
for a last text

your pushing your last gift into my hands
and me avoiding your eyes,
whispering "thanks"
was never enough
for a last encounter

and i wish with all my heart it didn't have to be like this.
i wish i could look at you when i pass you
at the bus stop, in the corridors,
and smile, even if i didn't have anything to say;
i wish i could murmur a greeting to you
instead of saying hello to your girlfriend,
looking through you as though there was
nothing beside her but air

but i know there is no going back.
we made our choices,
(or did they make
us?)
and we'll stay strangers
until we leave this place.

a lot of times, it's the little things
things that **** me off,
things that make me smile,
things that make me for a
second
forget who i am.

because what difference
does it make,
whether i laugh or cry
or punch a wall with
my fist?

as long as you get what
you want;
an emotional response,
you'll be satisfied.

and in that way, the little things
don't really matter at all,
because why should we care
why we laugh, or why we cry?
(or even why
we punch a wall?)
for as long as we know
we have not lost the ability
to feel,
to be,
to exist,

we are living.
and that is the most important of all.

there's a void in my soul
something i pretend to have lost
when it seems i never had it
to start with.

it's long lost kisses
and pretty things,
dark clouds and weeping willows,
giving up
and holding on
whispering branches in winter
and the wailing of the ocean in summer.

and if i reach deep enough into myself
i know that it is love
something lost, nothing gained.
but that doesn't matter, really
when you're a washed up, beat up soul
with nothing left
but a sandpiper to bring you joy.

no love,
but that's not a bad thing.

this life we live-
it's crazy, isn't it?
funny how the words choke me up
but when it comes down to this:
i have nothing to say
that hasn't been said already.

so what distinguishes me from
the cacophony of voices in my soul?
what makes me different from
the inky blackness in which i
try to hide?

every day is like a battle
but every night just passes like a dream
this life we live,
it's not for everyone but

we love it.

the sink is stacked full
of week-old dishes
that i haven't found the energy
to wash-
the dishwasher's spoilt and
i haven't had time to call someone to repair it.
or maybe i'm just procrastinating.

the laundry-basket is overflowing
with clothes,
i've been too busy working to put them to wash.
or maybe i'm just procrastinating.

this is what you talked about.
taking the last clean shirt out of the closet,
swearing because i realize my laziness has caught up with me,
eating chinese takeout almost every night
because i love the chicken chow mien,
not caring that i'll soon get sick of it.

it's what you called "that searching",
wanting more and more and even more.
we want the cold days to end and the warm ones to come,
we want back the people we used to love.
we want to see spring again,
for the cycles of life to repeat themselves.
we're never satisfied.
this yearning, this feeling-
what you finally gave up.

i see it in the mirror every morning,
think about it when i spill the coffee because i'm hungover
from last-night's emotional breakdown.
i catch a whiff of it when i let the dog out,
when i'm buying a CD from the corner video store,
when i catch a glimpse of myself
in the car window.

and i am filled
with the knowledge that
i am alive;

for this, this is
what the living do+.
what you finally decided
was too much for you to take.

but that's okay.
lock the door behind you now,
and drive safe.

i've been spending the past
two nights
away from home.
it's hard to explain why i did;
you'd have found me sitting
on the beach at two
a.m. ; two bottles of jack beside
my lonely bones.

i think i was back again,
searching for something
i lost long ago.
i think it left the same time you did.
i've been smoking too much too,
wisps of gray plumes
fleeing those smooth white marlboros.

i swear too much.
i cut myself on a bottle cap
and threw it out into the sea.

i'm a wanderer.
i can see why you left.
but the smoke and the alcohol,
they're my substitutes for you.
i drink so much that
i don't even get drunk anymore.

it's just me
and a ghost of a soul
where you used to be.

have you ever felt
the exhaustion?
it's not just physical; it's
mental, emotional, draining
in all the ways you could think of.
it runs in your blood and
seeps into your bones
and you sit there wondering when
it'll all be over.

have you ever felt
the heartache?
it numbs you, chokes you, and
makes you feel like your heart
is a little shriveled up raisin
because you can't imagining it opening
up to anyone else ever again.
it hurts in the worst ways;
a hollow ache that never subsides.

have you ever seen
me cry?
it's not the kind of quiet tears you
see in movies.
it's the heart-wrenching sobs;
screams of pain, loss and apprehension.
it isn't beautiful, there's nothing
poetic about it. it's raw, malignant
grief.

have you ever known me?
or were you just a figment
of my imagination,
too many lines between what i
know and and what i used
to love.

beep
"hey, how're you doing?
i-
****, nevermind."

beep
"god, i miss you so much.
i miss your voice,
your touch,
everything about you.
but i guess you don't miss me."

beep
"hey, how've you been? it
started snowing today.
reminded me of you. please
call me back."

beep
"i know you don't want to
talk, but please, please
just let me tell you how much
i miss you."

beep
"do you listen to all my voicemails?
you never pick up the
phone anymore. i guess
you just don't want to
talk to me."

beep
"i must have sent you twenty
voicemails by now. i'm sorry,
but i'm trying to come to terms
with the fact that you're gone."

beep
"this is the last one.
i'm sorry for bothering you,
i just wanted to tell you, to

remember me."

beep

take me to a place
where i can see You
face to face;

because all i want to do
is slip away
into the darkness i've been
trying so hard to fight.

heard you moved on;
from your own lips.
don't really know what to say.
don't really know what to feel.
too tired.

did you expect me to be any different?
cry, maybe?
tell you to remember me?
no.
what's the point?
you're gone.

it hit me with an air of finality.
you; her.
me; myself.
would i want it any different?
maybe. perhaps.

but perhaps not.
loving you got too hard.

like a pencil;
2B.
sharpened;
                    once;
                              long, long ago.

but someone broke you;
pressed too hard perhaps.
dropped you perhaps.
and you lost that point;
the point on which you live.

it's okay.
i'm the same.
we're all the same.

little pieces;
shavings of broken lead;
trying to pull ourselves back
together
again.

but pencil lead is graphite.
it isn't magnetic.
is there even anything left to pull?