I try not to worry
her
So much that sometimes
I answer
I’m fine
before
Hello
when she calls
because I know to her
I’m still more bone than
skin
I’m an empty bottle of
pills
One breath away from non
existence
A blood stain she scrubbed
with her tears
I’ve already worried years
off of her life
while trying to end
my own
So when she phones to
to check on me
I’ll always be fine
no matter what is
going on in my life
and sometimes before
Hello

Four, nearly five years ago, he was 4 years and 11 months my senior. We would stay up most of the night. Together. Then I would wake up and he would be gone. And after a few months it became a normal thing to wake up alone. Undisturbed and a little cold. Make the bed. Put away dishes. Gather my things. Go home. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Until one day he was gone for 8 months. No goodbye. No farewell. Just a break up text and disappointment. I would wake up and he would be gone. But this time he would be thousands of miles away. And all I could think about was water. And where the heck he could possibly be. But not wanting to write, because I didn't want to bother him. But I drank and caved in. I was tired of drowning. It was hot there. Over 100 degrees. He sent pictures and wrote back quickly. He came back. He showed me things he bought from other countries. I smiled again. He showed me more pictures. He got a dog. Fast forward another year. I would wake up and he would be gone. It was a normal thing by now. We had a routine. Make the bed. Put away dishes. Play with the dog. Gather my things. Go home. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Drown. Tell him how I felt. Radio silence. 10ft down. Explain how long I felt that way. No explanation from him. 20ft. No apology. 30ft. Direct questioning on how he felt. Dodged and avoided. 40ft. Go to bed. Wake up. And he's gone again. 50ft. 60ft. And it's cold. I can't feel my toes anymore. And it's getting dark. Play with the dog. 70ft. Make the bed and put away dishes. 80ft. Gather my things. Go home. 90ft. Silence. 100ft. And I'm done. I can no longer breathe. And I can no longer swim. I am sinking. And the pressure of the water is crushing my lungs. For two years I choked on sea water. I lived and I died. I waited. But I didn't cry. At 100ft under the waves tears are pretty pointless. After two years of wanting this thing, this person, I no longer want it. Because it doesn't want me. But I'm still afraid when I wake up. And the bed is empty. And I still panic when someone walks out the door. Because I never know which time will be the last. Or which ocean they're about to cross. And my childlike awe and innocence were thrown overboard and forgotten. It created an obsession for that lifestyle. So I became it. I woke up early. I pushed myself farther than I thought possible. And after years of watching him put his on, I earned my own uniform. And I went back to him. But I felt nothing. I surfaced. I can swim again. I have no feelings. I don't even have ill will anymore. He's only a friend. And there will come a day, quite soon, actually, when he will go home. Halfway across the country. And he won't be back. And I won't see him again. Ever. And that's ok. Because people leave. And sometimes they don't come back. And you're cold and a little disturbed. But you make the bed. Gather your things. And leave. Now the one who has panic attacks, the light sleeper, the one who holds a pillow at night to take the place of a body, and the one who begs you not to go, becomes the one who can't be tied down. She leaves. She drifts. Floating on the waves alone in peace and absolute terror. But not love. Not hate. Because she lost all feeling about 100ft down.

The best part is, 5 years later you're begging for me to enter your life again. Once or twice a week, you're inviting me out with you and your friends. You're asking me what I've been up to, where have I been and why haven't I seen you lately. But I'm here. I have always been here. You were the one who left. Every morning. Your time has passed. I was young and dumb. Which is why you probably never cared much. Understandable. I grew up. And now you see my worth. But so do I. And I will never allow myself to be disrespected like that again. Lesson learned. Now it's your turn to wake up alone. Make your bed. Put away your dishes. Gather your things and go home.

I took a shower tonight.
But I didn't wash my hair
Or my body or my face
Or even my toes.
I took a shower tonight.
And although the water was as hot as it can go
I stepped in and my whole body froze
From my hair
To my body to my face
To my toes.
I took a shower tonight.
And I just sat on the shower floor
I put my face in my knees
Let the billion clear little razors
Roll down my back
And down the drain.
I didn't cry.
I didn't break down.
I took a shower tonight.
And I just sat on the ground
And I sat in the shower.
Till the hot water turned cold.
Three hours of sitting
of mini razor blades rolling gently down my back
And in just a moment.
I'll get in my bed.
And I'll lay.
For about six to seven hours.
Until seven am
And then I'll put on my eyeliner
And be on my way.

You escaped our paradise to risk your own happiness,
I stood on that third floor, numbing my heart,
Covering her eyes to shield from your betrayal.

She felt your touch linger as your fingers slipped through,
I froze all the tears that persisted to fall from my eyes,
Disguising my ice rivers as the spring breeze.

Our Kingdom fell apart as you slammed the door,
Her love strong enough for walls not to collapse,
We stood there in silence as you desert true love.

He stood bare naked
under this unwanted attention.
He was vulnerable,
Left to be fed to the wolves.
Yet,
He smiled through it all
Whilst carrying a heavy heart
And sunken eyes.


《 e.i 》

I've been waiting to grieve
as if
the aftermath of Death
will come calling
like a long-jilted lover.

Maybe
I have forgotten
how to miss
the dearly departed
and there will be
no more tears.

I've been watching the road.
Nobody wearing somber colors
has come
walking up the hill yet.

There is no
plaintive song
calling on the wind.

I was my brother's keeper
for many years.
Maybe
I am too angry
to weep.