i remember when you would beg me to read to you
in the early hours of the morning
when conversation had kept us awake
i could tell you were smiling by the sound of your exhales
although my eyes never moved from the words on the page before me.
we would make love
until you were too tired to finish a whispered 'goodnight'
i would follow you into dreams
my last and first thoughts always of happiness

this was a long time ago
before i left you, before you left me

that's the thing with love;
it changes
it begins like a fire
embers and smoke
until it's Winter
you're alone
and the smell of ash is making you remember
everything you wish you could forget

Because I feel nostalgic
holding onto the ends of my sleeves
so they won't get bunched when I put on my coat

Because I think of the past
whenever I eat at Dairy Queen
or drive by the park in the town I grew up in

Because I can't forget
balancing on railroad ties
or fishing for nothing in the ditch outside my house

Because I remember
the time my cat killed a rabbit
and burying a box of toys in the yard with my sister for Pirate Day

Because my childhood was filled with
visiting you at work and meeting you for lunch
and climbing on your work truck even though you told me not to

Because whenever I see the Big Dipper
I remember you pointing it out one night
and not being able to make it out in the blackness

Because remembering anything of those days
I am suddenly struck with your presence in them
and the realization that looking back on the days I live now

I won't be able to feel nostalgic for you anymore

I wonder if you’d want to know
I named all of my demons after you and
they haunt me in my sleep

when I was 14 I fell asleep in April and dreamed of bones and
I’m not sure I’ve really ever woken up since

when I lost 5 pounds I never saw a difference

when I lost 10 my mother said I was looking good

when I lost 20 she told me to stop and handed me food
and I became anemic

when I lost 25 I stopped drinking anything because
I felt water had calories

when I lost 30 my mother held me on her lap
and held my bones together for me

when I lost 35 I started fainting every morning and
the doctors could no longer easily find my blood pressure

when I lost 40 people started to stare and food made me cry

when I lost 45 it hurt to walk and to lay down
it hurt to eat
it hurt to breathe and
I started throwing up my empty stomach

the mind plays tricks on those that decide
nourishment is not needed

Eat.

i'm not so in love now.
but love bargains for my emptiness.
it trips me up
and cries in the blue glum
whimpering for nothing more
than your sweet.
it kills the light and cadavers my living lungs.
it leaps into oblivion, more than it sinks
into pretty graves.