i still have those pictures
from your disposable camera
you gave me five years ago
when my hair was still long,
when we were still in love.
i don't look at them anymore.
and to be honest,
i don't even know where they are
or when i looked at them last
but i find comfort in knowing
they are taking up some space,
somewhere, in this disorganized room of mine.

i still have your name carved into
the top of my ceiling
which is funny because
you were always the one so quick to define
the meaning of impermanence.
i guess all ceilings eventually
collapse.
i think i clung too tightly to the possibility
of you never leaving, and so i carved
your name into my ceiling to comfort myself
during all the noise that not even your name
could silence.
i don't look at it anymore.
and even though you're gone, there are some people
who leave traces of themselves behind
in the most obscure places that not even they
become aware of.

i still have all of the love letters
you wrote me when i was sixteen.
they are sitting in a box beneath a pile of books and papers
on the bottom of my bookshelf.
i don't read them anymore.
i contemplated burning them more than once,
but i stopped myself because
what's the point in loving someone if you can't even
prove that the love was actually there
after everything has been said and done,
after all of it has left you?
i get so terrified,
to think that perhaps memory
is more unreliable than anything, and so i keep the things
you gave me as secret stash to show
that
we
happened once.

sometimes i wonder what it would have been like
to have given you the chance to explain yourself
face to face
i will probably never
know what it feels like to land on the moon
but that does not stop me from
gazing at it night after night paralyzed
with wondering
how anything could ever be that beautiful.
somethings should be left unseen
while others, simply left
unknown.

i asked you for money
to contribute to my trip to Florida

because i am a horrible daughter
because you haven't worked for three years
because i was testing you
because it's wrong that i have a job and you don't
because i'm 21 and you're 45
because i know you're broke and wanted to remind you of that
because you have two children you're not taking care of
because you have three children total but i don't count myself as yours anymore
because you have a lot of growing up to do
because i wanted to feel guilty for asking
because a piece of paper has exceeded the worth of our relationship
because i'm about to go on the most amazing adventure of my life
and you're not even happy for me
because i need your support
because you're essentially absent from my life
because you're dating a drug dealer who supplies you with everything
because i need you
i need you
i need you
i need you
because i'm a horrible daughter
because i'm greedy for asking
because nothing is enough.

What happened to us?
And please tell me why.
Since when was it okay to just let people cry,
While they smile on the outside,
And utter mere lies.
We're all so broken,
But yet, we're 'fine.'

and i wonder if you keep the image
of my face tucked away in a tiny hiding place
where you don't always have to see it
but find endless comfort in knowing it's there,
like the picture i keep of my mother when she was nineteen
in my wallet only having to look at it
when i ride the bus or purchase something
necessary or to show to people just so i can say
"look! wasn't she pretty! do i look like her?"
without hearing their response
because the answers are all
in the questions

and i wonder if your hands find themselves
writing tiny letters in your diary
letters that are born of the outline of our
memories
like the way my hands so often do
and i wonder if you have a reserved sign
sitting on a table in your heart for me
just like i do
for you

though we do not talk anymore,
i still think of you -
not my idea of you - but how you were,
as i knew you to be.
beautiful, like a swan
cute the way you would lose things
like your wallet or phone,
the way it almost seemed like you lost them on purpose
just to give yourself something
tangible to look for, to distract you
for a little while.

though we have spent more time apart without talking
than we probably ever thought we would,
i still smile to myself when certain memories
float like little clouds shaped as animals
over my heart.
like that night we took black and white photographs of ourselves
in my mothers bathtub, beautiful pictures
of us smoking cigarettes, and you said
"two girls. black and white. naked in a bathtub.
it doesn't get more honest than that."
and i smiled because you were right
and it felt like we had accomplished
some artistic feat, like the love we had for each other
was finally depicted into something that we had both
created, in the way great artists create things,
beautiful & brutally honest,
and i felt so much joy and beauty
in that.
i still look at them sometimes,
when my heart aches for you.

though you have hopefully replaced me
with better, kinder, balanced, healthier, supportive people in your life
i still think about you,
and although i do recall how deeply we both hurt
each other
i do wish the best for you
and i hope you're really
happy and that you finally feel
like the goldmine
you are.

I'm sitting here
Reading these words you wrote for me
It wasn't really that long ago
But it seems like ages
And now I'm thinking about you and me
I'm not the same person you wrote to
I don't feel the same either
And what about you?
You said 'I love you'
Even wrote this poem to say it
But now we're a bit estranged
I know I can get on without you
And even though it hurts, I'm fine
So what about you?
What are you feeling now?
What are you thinking?
And I have to wonder
Are you ever curious about me?

we hurt so much sometimes
that we forget how remarkable it is
that we are all existing
right now
simultaneously
we can't meet every single person on the planet
but we can sure as hell try
because some of the people i would die to meet
stopped existing before i even started
existing
and that is a straight up tragedy

we are all existing
right now
at the same time
and it's a miracle and we forget it
because there is
so much too much
pain
but right now
it deserves to be acknowledged
because one day
we will all
be gone.

sometimes i see the little green light
beside your name on
facebook chat
and i stare at it for a while, hoping a little
"hey! how are you?" might pop up
wondering how long i will have to wait
for you to notice me.
but then i feel pathetic because it's like
the majority of my life has been spent on
waiting
for people to notice me
and while half of me wants to be noticed,
the other half strongly wishes to remain
an anonymous quote you happened to
stumble upon in an abandoned library, or
a figment of your imagination
where every aspect of
myself
has been starved from each of your
senses
where you are left alone to wonder
if i ever actually existed
at all.