what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

I plant another garden; sow seeds and pips.
Dirt stains my knees and my fingertips.
I go inside, escape the all-seeing sun
and erase any trace of ***** work I've done.
I don't know why
my hands are raw and dry.
Cracking at the seams of my skin,
revealed myself to be wrist-deep in sin.
I planted my garden, but at what cost?
What flowers grow when the gardener is lost?

I am running out of reasons
All the reason to write
I am losing all the memories
that keep me up at night

Have I moved on?
Did I let go?
Or
Did time simply pass?

I don't know.

I don't think of you as often
In fact, I don't think of anyone at all.
I don't see you in my dreams
No, I don't dream anymore.

I say "I love you"
more often than I pray
It saddens me that I say it
with no address or a name.

I whisper it to the wind
"I love you."
A phrase so familiar
yet so far from the truth.

I don't know why I say it.
I have no one to say it to.
I'm overwhelmed at how long it has been
Someone said it to me too.

Love has been so foreign
to this troubled heart
In the open it is calm
truth is, it's tearing me apart

I'm losing all the memories
that keep me up at night.
Even in my dreams,
anyone is out of sight.

I thought I have moved on.
In fact, I really have.
It's just that I miss the feeling
of having someone to ache for.

I miss having all the reasons
All the reasons in the world.
I miss saying "I love you."
As much as I miss hearing these words.

I don't cry myself to sleep.
I want to, but I cannot cry
I don't have any reason
To feel so sad at night.

I used to remember how we were
Before I go to sleep
I used to write you letters
Then after, I delete.

Now I don't have the reasons
to write to you at all.
Cause now I can't remember
how we were before.

I wish I could remember
How your lips felt on my skin
But even that I can't remember
I'm losing everything.

At least I can hold on to
our pictures from the past
Where all I see are strangers
so in love.

I wish I can remember
how your gaze felt.
Like how you looked at me
in the picture that I kept.

Now when I look at us,
And all the photos that I kept,
I feel nothing.
None at all.

I am so scared of this phase.
This phase after moving on.
It's even more heartbreaking
than any break-up song.

I thought I couldn't get
any lonelier than when you left
I did not know that indifference
Makes all the difference.

"I love you."
"I miss you."
"I care for you."
I don't know you.

have the breaths
acquiesced and
left on my desk
this evening

leave out the parts that
make too much sense
and fill in the rest with
fevered intuition

gripping on the third rail for balance

was it a secret i’d been
plotting this heist for years
or was it a need to know basis
since by all accounts
it was better when
you didn’t need to know
and i only told the one
so i know who to blame

this love has been condensed for clarity

blame it on a misfired synapse
only if you truly must to sleep
cognitive dissonance if anyone asks
but it isn’t that deep it’s just us as we