My fingers were trying to text you
Trying to get ahold of your voice again
Gripping, with the comfort of holding something familiar in my hands
Something my ears could float in
Cause your voice always made me feel like I was under water
But I knew if I slept there too long I would drown
My fingers were gripping the keys
Your name, a recipient
of something I knew I'd regret
But I was sure you'd be disappointed
So
I wrote a poem instead

When I talk God I mean:
You

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

I'm not an artist but I've opened up galleries with your name painted all over the walls

they're a souvenir encoded in brush strokes of downward spirals and rose tinted tunnel vision

the lights are blaring and my sight is blurred by tears and the street lamp flickers, almost sympathetically

a street lamp can understand, so why can't you?

She fell in love with an astronaut,
their distance lightyears away.
She believes that he fell in love with her, too.
“For the galaxies are beside me, and a vast of possibilities laying
outside the metal surrounding me,
i kept falling back into your pull of gravity.”
And she still does, when she grows old every day, waiting
he stays the same, feels the same, thinks the same.

But she fell in love with an astronaut,
their distance lightyears away.
Everything under her feet moves faster,
And in space - time slows down, Relativity kicks in.
And every day she wishes, that the Earth would stop revolving
the years stop counting, and
she would stay the same, feel the same, think the same.
She hoped, she dreamed, she failed.

She fell in love with an astronaut.
Her nights linger on tinkering on stars
and planets, and space. She wanted to wait,
she grows old, he slows it down, she couldn’t.
He is lightyears away, and time is running out.
She was in love with an astronaut,
and he was meant to be there, not with her,
not ever.