Those who've died live on
In the memories of those
Whose lives they have touched

Silence says much more
Than useless words we have said
Many times before

I can not find the letter mother left me four days
before her death. I read it once and then placed

it in a cardboard box like you might a dull
knife or a ******* tin. The letter is

a part me, like Van Gogh’s severed
ear was to him. I want the letter

like love or sight; the way bone
                               needs marrow.

A brown leaf lingers
At the mercy of the wind --
Hanging, like the stars.

Someone told me
our bodies contain
enough carbon to make 900 pencils
ending it with
"you can write with your body"

First, let my body meet yours
let our fingertips touch
and let our bodies
yearn to start
some good writing
tease our carbons
to create, to begin
to fall
to blend
to melt

Now darling
the only way I'd begin a poem
is with you
starting with a kiss
a capital kiss
for the first letter
of the first word
should be bold
and beautiful
silent but loud

The sentences my body start
yours finish
no matter how long
"run on's", fragmented they are
you start I finish,
I start you finish

Interrupted by breaths
gasping for life, inhaling
the souls of muses
and exhaling such beautiful
poetry, such deep writing
that only our bodies know how
to create, how to read, how to vocalize
how to share

Stanzas interrupted by moans
that sing and hum the hymns
of poetry that cannot be
embodied in words
moans that orchestrate
symphonies
leading our bodies
to dance
to love
to enjoy
such intensity
that my pencils fail at
capturing

Let my body write with yours
and re-write the ways of love
edit, proofread, scratch, claw
mark and re-create
new ways of falling
of loving, of sighing
let my body write with yours
and bask under
such powerful chemistry
where carbon burns
And flames
ignite

Let's write

You should never date someone with the same music taste as you because there will be songs that you sing together at 3 in the morning when you're tangled together in bed that you won't be able to listen to again for a very long time. I used to never let anyone kiss me in public because I knew one day when I walk past that very spot it will take everything I have to keep walking. I used to never bring anyone home because I never wanted my bed to feel like it was missing something. Every time I look up at the sky at night, I think of the time you showed me where the big dipper was and how we watched an airplane connect perfectly to the end of it. It was like everything connected in that moment and I wanted nothing more than to somehow keep it forever. There's nothing but a big hole in the sky now.

Do you also wake up in the middle of the night and almost reach for me
because you forgot that I'm not there anymore?
I slept next to someone else last night,
But I had a dream that I was next to you,
And I have never felt more disappointed in my life than in that moment when I woke up.
I can't tell which is worse, the disappointment or
Trying to sleep while holding myself together because it feels like everything is about to spill out of me.

According to everyone I should just go meet someone else,
but it's not that easy.
I have no interest in talking to anyone when I'm sober,
When I'm drunk I just end up telling everyone about you.
I can't tell if I'm waiting for someone to confirm that you're never coming back
Or for someone to lie to me so I can feel better for the night.

Can I ***** out all my feelings too, along with the *****?
I almost thought I had, the night I was dry heaving into the morning.
That was the night I got so drunk I couldn't stop asking everyone I saw
Why
Didn't
You
Love
Me?
I'm sure all the strangers in the room thought I was crazy.
I have dreams about you all the time and even in my dreams,
You still don't love me.

If I stare at your Facebook chat bubble long enough,
Will I see the three dots of you beginning to type a message?
If I stare out my window long enough,
Will I see you walking towards my front door?
I still want to punch a hole through the wall whenever I hear a song that you used to sing to me.
That's become particularly annoying
since the Chainsmokers got popular.
Apparently I can't get over you
while still listening to your SoundCloud playlists
But I'm not sure what else is worth listening to.

The other day, my friend commented on how fast I walk.
I told him it was because I had gotten used to your speed
since you're much taller than me.
In reality, I think it's just to make up for the parts of my life
that haven't been moving at all.