"Goodbye, I guess..." :
The last words I spoke to you
and I saw that look in your eyes
like you weren't able to understand
what was going on.
Like you were Tod and I was Widow Tweed
in that scene you loved but I hated
because I couldn't handle the pain in those fox eyes.
(Goodbye may seem forever,
Farewell is like the end)
I felt our connection fray
and I was no longer grasping at threads,
trying to keep us together like I said I always would.
I'm sorry I broke my promise
but you broke a hundred of yours first.
I jogged away, hoping the momentum
would keep me together for a little while longer.
Still, my heart resisted, begging to go back
and I compromised, glancing to where you were
only to see empty space on a forever haunted sidewalk.
(But in my heart's a memory
and, there, you'll always be)

She lay in the bath, half asleep or half awake she wasn't sure, but the warm water floated gently around her infinitely. And just like the memories in her mind the water lapped aimlessly at nonexistent edges, spilling over, as if wandering off the edge of the world.  
She moved her hand carelessly to tuck an escaped strand of hair behind one ear as the water hugged the creases and crevasses of her body, all contained in a white bowl of serenity with the only disruption in her mind. She starred absentmindedly into the reflection in the water, a distorted and watery version of her blue eyes and curly hair, although somewhere inside her she knew she was beginning to feel more like her reflection every day. Her tear stained eyes stared back at her, the makeup smudges making her look skillfully tired and worn as though an artist himself had hand crafted her very face and in the process aged her 5 years. Inside she lulled away, wanting to melt into the water and never care about anything more than was necessary. The soft, happy, carefree side temporarily locked away, with a combination that even she did not yet know. Instead an emotional whirlwind of feelings, angry and powerful tunneled out, amplified by so much as a word or a thought. It was these moments that almost took her by surprise, as if it was someone else pushing these people out, in an attempt to avoid explaining. This was accompanied by feeling as though the world had given her everything to live for and everything to lose in one breath. Her ragged breathing had eventually softened to an emotional sigh of trembling lips as she reimbursed herself with more hot water. Feeling it burn on her leg she watched pink ovals appear,  stinging with regrets and pain, a constant wishing to go back and re do and apologies and pause and rewind and forward.
With a click of her heel she snapped the plug away, maybe in some attempt to also drain herself of her tribulations that had almost enveloped her entire bath. Watching the water disappear quickly, she was entranced at the waters escape, loving how eager it was to run away from her. And with this she felt relief, as though she could finally breathe.

It should be a simple question.

No matter the technicalities,
it doesn't count if it was against your will.
I wish someone had told me that in high school.

I still find myself wanting you.

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

Enter;
constant anxiety and
an inability to deny
my body what my brain
will swear is relief.
Stop.

Cigarettes.
Pills.
Newspaper clippings.
Governmental conspiracy books.
No friends.
No family.
No food.
No water.
Just lying in the dark,
day after day,  
Until your heart gave out.

I have documented proof in the form of bills, bank statements, and autopsy reports that this was what the last years of your life were like.

I now lie awake in the same room where I figure you must have spent all of your time,
looking at the ceiling,
wondering if it was the last thing you saw.


I have felt myself become increasingly anti-social, bitter, violent, cold, paranoid, critical and reclusive over the years,
and I know that if I let myself continue to slip away,
I will end up just like you,
in this same room,
staring at the same ceiling,
with my face that looks just like yours,
with nothing to comfort me except for the fading memories of the love I like to think I once felt.


There were ten thousand books in this house the first time I came to see it,
piled high in every room,
ghosts in the ashes between every page...


I'm scared,
but you were the one who taught me to take pride in the land I live on,
so I will turn it into something beautiful,
and I won't let this place be haunted anymore.

It had been too long since I paid close attention to myself.

As I sat by the water, small nymphs of some bug pattered down from the leaves above like a soft rain

Kinder to my skin than any water.

A fowl plucks himself, and the littlest spider begins a journey to cross me like my denim is so many stretching lands.

I am interrupting nature as humbly as I can manage, two cigarettes pass and I'm tired of self-ness already

But for a moment? I breathed.