When will we say goodbye*
The thought brings tears to my eyes.
I look down at the top of my now soaked shoes.
It's raining outside, and I'm thinking of you.
My heart can't stress enough the love I once felt,
But now I have to go prepare for this drought.
It'll be tough but I'll pull through,
I can only hope that you will too.

If you see me with this big white notebook in my arms
it's because I can't get you off my mind
and I want to write down
every stupid poem that I think of
just in case it's a masterpiece

I still find myself wanting you.

Why is it that I feel so good inside when absolutely nothing is inside of me?

you,
breaking open hollow fragments
of the truths I trusted you with.
I can hear the plinking
of broken glass and promises,
pattering as if the rain
has become some sort of
fractured heartbeat.
they are small,
but they crack me upon impact
and you laugh when each echo
shatters my insides.

how can you not see
that I am trying to hide my face
for a *reason?
I do not want to admit that these
are tears,
and I do not want to pretend
that they aren't.
I just want you to notice,
to stop destroying everything
I gave to you
just long enough for me to breathe.
I need to breathe.

I need air, even if I don't want it.

You're a one night stand
But we spent too many nights
I lost count of it.

You're that unexpected kiss
On a drunken wasted night
Of vomits and *****.

You're that awkward hi
Exchanged by strangers who
Thought they both knew each other
But were clearly mistaken for another.

You're the bruise that turns blue
When I accidentally bump my leg
On the corner of the bed.

You're the scar that I never
Knew I had.

You're the bittersweet taste in
My mouth every morning.

You're the last thought lingering
In my head before slumber takes me
And you're the vagueness that
Haunts me in my dreams.

You're the scalding hot shower
In a cold freezing morning.

You're the boiling tea that numbs
My tongue for the rest of the day.

You're the obsession
I will never learn to let go of.

You're that person I will
Never get to call mine.

You're the one that got away.

Trust me when I say you are not the first to love me against your will. I am your every I-shouldn’t-be-feeling-like-this and palms pressed to eyes and dreams you don’t want to end and touches you wish were real. I make you want to stay and change me or change yourself and break your every rule you have ever made for anyone before me and most importantly I make you want to break the world.

Do not make me the epitome of a riddle because, you are smart enough for this and I am not something that can be solved. I am selfish and I am aware of that and I want you but you’re not the only one. I am sorry I never warned you about how I can make you feel and I am sorry I didn’t want to anyway because you are this little book of hope and innocence I lost when I grew up and I need you to be my refuge.

I am waiting for something uncertain in the future and that is why I am playing with the certainties I have in my hands now. Just because I have your feelings intertwined between my fingers doesn’t mean I don’t know the consequences they have on my sentiments. This is not the first time I have done this but the intensity does not die down with the next person and I know I shouldn’t be doing this but I look for homes in people.

But trust me when I say you will fall in love with me on your own will. These moments are temporary and fleeting and they’re the most beautiful mirage you will ever come across. In these moments I am more than just a dream and I am more than who I am and I am more than the 20-year-old girl you fell in love with. And more than anything, I will become nonexistent right on front of your eyes.

here's how it happens
the morning after
you reach into the drawer
where the your t-shirts live
to find it austere
you'll shrug because
you're still drunk
& you can't remember
when last it was
that you had something wet
or how long it's been
since you made the floorboards blush
or why the carpet is upset
who wouldn't be
the contents to the upended ashtray
strewn around the apartment
resemble the aftermath
of the smallest war
to ever take place in norfolk
some midnight thief
must've made off with the lighter
because it isn't in
any of your favorite spots
maybe you chucked it
along with a hundred other things
that make noise when they land
in the neighbors yard
you won't remember putting
the refrigerator's belongings
in the bathtub
or scrawling a buzzard
on the bedroom door
but then again who would
you'll pretend it's spring again
before putting on your winter coat
to go out front with a cigarette
in your mouth
you'll hope for a passing stranger
to *** a light from
or drag yourself to the corner
with couch cushion change
to buy a new lighter
and on your way
you won't bother looking back
this is just another day
on eggshells for no reason
another november
choking on birthday candles
on your way home
you step over beer cans
the kind you fell in love with
and wonder who
had the last laugh last night
or if anyone said a word at all
it might've been another
moment of clarity
it might have been some idiot savant
any adjective that feels like home
anything that keeps you thirsty

i wonder if the doors in the house you grew up in
started slamming themselves to save your father the trouble.
i wonder if you can remember the last time you prayed,
and if you had trouble unfolding your hands.
i wonder if your mother knows
about the collection of hearts you hide in your closet,
i wonder if she could tell mine apart from the rest.
i wonder if your shoes know the reason why
you keep them by the back door and not your bedside.
and sometimes, i wonder
if you ever think about that night when i told you,
you wouldn't need to drink so much if you had me.
but it seems like we only speak when you've got body on your brain,
whiskey in your glass,
your judgement is overcast,
and you know i'm too weak to ignore you.
i learned how to translate your texts
from drunken mess back into english.
i am fluent in apology, but i don't ask you for them anymore.
this is just how it is.
it's not enough for either of us
but ******* it we are not above settling.
so i will ignore her name on your breath,
and you will ignore the fact that this means something to me.
i always thought the first time i kissed you,
it would be on your mouth.
i just wanted to be something warm for you to sink into,
something that could convince you to stay a second night.
but i sneak you out in the early morning,
and you take a piece of my pride with you when you go.
i am left to nurse the hangover from a wine i've never tasted,
wondering how this is possible.
waiting for the next drunk call,
for the next time i get to pretend we are lovers,
the next time i get to live out the fantasy i am most ashamed of.
it is the one in my head where you want me when you're sober too.

- m.f.