Sometimes saying goodbye to someone
doesn't nearly hurt as much
as saying goodbye to the version of you
that existed alongside them.

I look back at my poetry
The ones about sunshine
Strawberrys
And fresh breezes
To remind myself
That at some point
I was truly happy

what if i just was?

when you zone out, where do you go?

if you look at anything long enough it turns into exactly what you were looking for.

i am looking for nowhere.

hiding in what was.

i want to be in between the lines of my childhood memories,
in between the folds of time
in the solid swaths of color

huffing on emotional echoes.

i want to be in the stills from a movie, but not the running film.

where do ditzy people go when they ditz?

i want to live in the moment before you wake up, when you nuzzle into the void between consciousness and unconsciousness

the in between inhale and exhale

how do i know what words to let out of my
brain
mouth
?

who is the author of my thoughts?
what is making me write this?

i want to be mad
delirious

just be.

i am.

its okay.

The truth is.
I go by an easy process.
If you don't think about it.
Then its not real.

But here I am.
Inspired to write.
Solely because I am thinking about you.

Fin

Maybe in a different world
I am braver than I am now

I can fill the silence with words
That I’d never dare to speak out loud

And what comes next would
Just be a distant cry of a crow

Maybe in a different world
we’re just like the rest of the crowd

And on the porch of our house
A ladybug reflects the sunset’s light

I own the version you think of me.
The misguided one in your story.
There aren’t enough apologies,
able to change the narrative.
For the way you see things;

Put the blame
on my k/illings.

— n.y