the sun turns our thoughts into sweat
so i curse at the sky and blinding heat
for taking your voice away from me

saying a few words should be easier than it is
i get lost in concise conversation
i need you to ramble into my ears until our lungs are touching
from sheer lack of airspace

i need there to be more words than air
for our limbs to be tangled in ideas that keep pressing us together
knotted so tight we can finally tighten around all the sound
and make silence

i'll hang on to tomorrow
until my fingers are fiery and blistered
and even then

symptoms include:
brushing my teeth in the middle of the day
wearing my pajamas three days in a row
failing classes i understand
listening to regina spektor's old albums on repeat
wearing your flannel to sleep
talking to myself, forgetting you aren't around

fatality rate:
high

recommended:
a soft kiss on the lips at two am
as we fall asleep
talking about committing arson

you make me
want to use
the 'L' word

and i don't even cuss

i immortalized you
and you don't even know

i'm no poet, no artist
maybe that's why i can see
we're a lot more beautiful
when you're just you, and i'm just me

i found a poem at the bottom of
a cup of coffee
it looked an awful lot like you
and smelled like a promise

but my hands shook so bad
i never wrote it down

if i look at the sky
at just the right moment
i can picture your eyes

and i remember
if only for that moment
that we're under
the same sky

i'm very afraid
of death

and i don't
particularly
want to drown

but when you look at me
with those eyes...

perhaps i can make
an exception.

kissing you
and smoking

create a venn diagram

and the middle
is large enough to hold my empty hands

i've run out
of ways to say:
i miss you