You’re going to leave my in July
On a warm summer day
You’re going to leave me lonely
For the cold Australia gray

When the air gets thick
When the sky gets blue
You’ll be gone

When the sun sets late
When the stars come out
I’ll be alone

I’ll look up at night
And you’ll look up too
10,000 miles away
Underneath the same moon

Maybe we’re not as far apart
As we think we may be

Do not ask me
Why I have trust issues
Ask everyone who has ever left.

I find comfort in the static of the record player humming,
the crackling of vinyl against its holding
your arms tucked tight around the curve of my spine
and waking up to the corners of your lips widening

this is a sunday morning
that I could relive
7 days a week

this is a feeling
I am near terrified of
but in a way that I need to be

see,
I have never been one for writing love poems
and when it comes to writing love
good endings aren't my specialty

I'm not one for spilling vulnerability
to then have to clean up the mess
after it goes without catching

I'm not the best at predicting future
and letting go
is an art form I am still mastering

I have never been one for writing love poems
especially not for those
who don't stick around
long enough to hear them
but for you
I am willing
to take the risk
to set aside hesitation
for the chance of lasting
to sacrifice my fear of heights
for the possibility of a smooth landing

I don't know you well
but I know you enough
to know you're exactly what I want

so I'll talk about your smile
how your dimples have quickly become
my favorite half moon to stare at
or the way you look at me
like a single star
in the middle of a busy Los Angeles sky

being enfolded in your grasp
feels like sun peeking through grey
how lightness makes itself known
even in the midst of rain

I want my skin
to find a home in your palms
and my laugh
an echo in the crook of your neck

for routine
to settle on the map of your body
from collarbone to knuckle to wrist
making a transparent dent in each earlobe
to be missed by my lips
to crave the caress of my hands
when they have other obligations

and I'll hope
that I can waste
as much time with you
as I intend to
although I'm sure
that any time we spent together
would be anything but wasted
I hope
that we can stretch these two nights into two hundred
weaving a weekend into something we can wrap ourselves in

this is me saying a prayer
the only way I know how to

I have never been one for writing love poems
but for you
it is all I want to do
to listen to the silence
and from it
form a symphony
to take this coincidence
and call it fate
to give out all of my honesty
and hope that you stay

I wonder if I'm on your mind tonight more than I probably am
My eyes move between phone and computer screen seeking your name
My ears are perched to their highest capability
My mouth tastes of blood from the lip I've bitten in your honor and
all I can do is wonder where you are tonight and if you're wondering about me too

I can't sleep at night, and i think i've figured out why. When i lay in bed with my eyes open i think of you. I think of you and i hate myself for it. I think of you and then i think about more of you and then i almost cry and then i have to pinch myself so i don't. You were the first beautiful thing to ever love me. You were the first to keep me up at night months after saying goodbye. I can't sleep at night because i hate sleeping alone. I hate being alone. I hate looking at my phone and knowing that i havent missed a call from you, i hate when i fall down the stairs and theres noone laughing behind me because im such a klutz and this happens almost daily. I hate the emptiness i feel in my arms and i hate how big the dimples in my back feel without your hands holding me, i hate that you're not holding me. I hate that i can't sleep because i can only think about the beautiful thing that we were in the beginning, like that first night we watched that movie and you leaned over and kissed me i thought i was going to pass out from excitement, i remember how happy i felt how eveery empty second was filled with thoughts of you and every thought was reassured because i knew you felt that way too, i like the night you first saw me cry even if it was over something stupid you held me like my problems were as big as the iceberg that hit the titanic, i liked watching titanic with you because that movie is so ******* good and you're logic to disregard it only made me like it more, i like the first time you said i love you because it took so long to get those stupid words out of you but i loved it because i knew that you meant it and you knew that i wasnt going anywhere. I liked that time you cried at our favorite restaurant because i was being a ***** im sorry that i can be a ***** sometimes. Okay a lot of the time. I like that you put up with my **** and everytime id try to justify it youd say shh. I like how you made me watch too many movies. I like how your dog would **** the bed and we couldnt move him because hes kind of fat. I miss that. I miss a lot. But missing doesnt get you anywhere and nothing i do will get us back to the way we were way back then. I just thought that maybe writing this might help me sleep again, i figured if i wrote down everything clogging my head that maybe id feel better. But the reality is i dont. Im lonely and i miss you and i miss knowing what its like to go a day without missing someone. No amount of melatonin will wipe the memories from my mind both good and bad. Cups of hot tea and warm blankets wont help me to forget the sound of your heartbeat and the way you used to drum your fingers down my spine until i fell asleep, i cant even sleep in my own ******* bed because your teddy bear is next to me and i dont have the guts to get rid of it let alone move it. I know in less than a year ill be moving. You will too. We'll be gone and moving on to a different part of our lives. But i want you to know this. No matter how far away we are no matter whether or not we ever start to talk again, im still here. My phone still buzzes and beeps in hopes that its you. And my heart still jumps and leaps for the exact same reason. if your ever in bed and you cant fall asleep, its okay, because ill be awake too.

I can't believe I ever wanted you
I can't believe I ever needed you
I can't believe I ever cared for you
I can't believe I ever loved you
I can't believe I still do.

meeting you
was finding a pond
after years
of knowing only desert

Loving you feels like home
like a fireplace I never took the time to sit in front of
like this warmth is a newness I am just now experiencing for the first time
like I don't even know how to be cold anymore
loving you looks like a sunday morning
or a tuesday
like a bed with tangled sheets
like the glow of sunrise crawling in through cracks in the blinds
like the dent in the mattress of a body
yours fitting perfectly parallel to mine
like the mess of human we are
poured together between silk and skin
reaching for a touch to remind us that this
is real
like I have never seen eyes look at me the way yours do
loving you sounds like the loud of my laughter
unbound in its arrival
like the calm of silence
like I could build a fort out of it
like blowing out the candle in the corner of the room
and how comfort stays still even in darkness
loving you tastes like the corners of my lips stretching outward
like the habit of a smile forming
like a permanent sweetness on the tongue
like a craving I could never lose
Loving you smells like my sweatshirt
like your face buried in my neck,
my own pressed against the soft of your chest
like how knowing your morning breath is a privilege
loving you is like a poem without ending
like I never want to write ours
so I wont

Of all of the bad decisions
I've made in my life
Loving you was my favorite.

I don't know what it's like to run a hand along your jawline. I don't know how it would feel to bury my fingers in your hair.
I don't know if you prefer wine to hard liquor.
I don't know if you stretch the moment your alarm goes off in the morning or if you roll back into your sheets after pressing snooze.
I don't know a lot about the scar on the right side of your chest. I've only seen it once.
I don't know what your eyes look like when you really love something.


I remember you asking,
“What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever been through?”
I knew what your response would be before it left your mouth. I hesitated to answer with my own and you said I didn't have to. It is nights like these when I wish I did.


When I see you it is mostly outside of houses where I don't belong and which you are familiar with, places where you have an abundance of friends and I have too many drinks.

You say that we'll talk soon and I remind you that you are terrible at texting. You laugh because it's true. I laugh to keep myself from spilling out my admiration for you. I laugh because your smile provides insight on how to be freer. I laugh with the hopes that doing so will teach me.
_

There is an equal amount of things I know about you and things I don't.
I don’t know if your eyes grow wide and out at the sight of what makes you happy, I don't know how they look when you really love something.
I’d like to find that out.
I’d like to see you looking up at me one day and for me to just know.

If it doesn't keep you up at night
You probably don't love it enough.

Just yesterday
We were 12 years old
Plagued by acne and awkward physicality
Attempting to conquer middle school and everything that comes with it
******* too large for our scrawny figures
Pale skin
Freckles painting our faces
Yesterday we were 12
I swear we were just
Giggling about boys between slow dances at whatever bar mitzvah was that weekend
Smiling as they stared at awe at our changing bodies
Sticks blooming into carved wood
Futures as tall as we were hoping to become
Although I myself never made it past 5 foot 2
It was the promise that kept us going
The promise of straight teeth and symmetrical eyeliner
The desire to have boys' hands on our skin
Craving the rough callus against our delicate thighs
There were no cages back then
Our stomachs were filled to the rim with butterflies
Free to do as they please
We never thought twice
Only did
Immersing ourselves in adventures
Back before excitement moved to glass bottles and late nights with crowded rooms
Back when
It lived in our backyards and the mall down the street
The other day
We were 12 years old
But today I just feel old
Feel strange
Feel like I left a part of me back home
I am miles away from where I was at 12 years
But it feels so close in time
Feels like I can still look in the mirror
To find us in poorly applied makeup
In Ill fitting pants and hot topic t shirts
Neon pink accessories
I find it hard to believe
That these people have been gone for six years already
And that for the first time since meeting
They will be apart
We have been through it all
The good
The bad
The disappointing
The awkward and embarassing
All of these years in my life
Have already passed
So why do I feel like they are still stuck to my skin
Why do I feel like nothing has changed at all
I know
That change is inevitable
That time goes on no matter how many times we hit snooze
That we are older and that this is real life and we don't get to choose whether it's easy or not
That we have to face it head on
I know we're going down separate paths
But they have to connect somewhere
I know they will someday
Someday we will look back
And say
Yesterday we were 18
Where the **** did time go?
I don't know where it did
But until we find it
Let's just breathe
Take it in
Go slow.

The people I love
Don't have time to love me back
And I still give so much of myself away

My mouth tastes of whiskey
When it should really taste of you.

I didn't love you, I loved the way you made me feel

Sometimes I wonder if
I would actually love you if
You actually loved me

You can turn someone into poetry
But you can't make them love you.

I wonder
How it is possible
That I am able
To miss something
So terribly
That I
Have never had
That
Has never
Been mine.

your mouth, contagious memory of sweetness on the tongue

whispering voices through our sacred ears during the night

meadow of sunflowers, I want to lie in quietly

holding wrist against a wet rag heaving apology

forty-seven, return of sickness for the second time

photograph evidence and words but mostly in flashbacks

summer heat pressed against glass or a phone or a parked car

ants crawling their hungry way through holy skin, decaying

cracked open window for breathing without suffocation

claw your path through blue veins on pale skin and I will watch the

parade of history unwanted as it leaves the throat.

Muscle I thought I had, now softly disintegrating

It is Tuesday again and he loves a girl who isn't me.
In 14 days I will have survived another year.
It has been about a week since he hasn't responded.
I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks this heavily.

In 14 days I will have survived another year.
I pour my heart into an unopened bottle of wine.
I wonder if I'm the only one who thinks this heavily.
Half of my bed is on the floor, sheets included.

I pour my heart into an unopened bottle of wine.
It has been about a week since he hasn't responded.
Half of my bed is on the floor, sheets included.
It is Tuesday again and he loves a girl who isn't me.

I am still waiting for the day
When I can look at you
And feel nothing

You are, almost
Tell me your first memory of happiness.

Maybe a swing set above wood chips or
collecting ladybugs in your pockets or
a perfectly cut sandwich you didn't make
or the smell of grass mixed with chlorine
and sunscreen coating your skin under
a sky brighter than any future imaginable.
Pink frosting from cake dyes palms
into a canvas of sugary pigment
A popsicle melting down between
the webbing of eager fingers
Teeth are covered in chocolate and
face a mess and
all smiles,
it is funny how joy always seems
to be synonymous with
sweetness and
giggles and
the memory of being too young to remember anything fully.

19 is poison for a clock
it is reminder to wake up
after pretending to be
something you were not for too long
time is eating away the comfort
from your bones, I wonder
does candy still taste like candy
when it has grown stale?
when the shell has cracked and
all that remains is what's inside,
is it still desirable then?
will people still want to know
what you feel like against their tongue
after you've already touched the ground?

The same texture but time
has made its evidence on you tangible
The juice once spilling from your hands
has become wine
The summer sparklers have become remnants of
cigarettes on your nail buds,
ashes of trying to forget,
you are no longer afraid of fireworks
the hairbrush holds another version of yourself,
a near stranger with similar freckles who
once insisted on only wearing dresses,
now you struggle just to get shoes on,
it was easier when someone did it all for you,
everything is, that way.
I don't know when laughing became
a side effect instead of a soundtrack but
it still rings familiar, sometimes.

19 is more sour than lost
it is possible to know whereabouts with
a bitterness between your lips but
not all of your past is disintegrating
there is a love for saccharine that still remains,
more honey than cloying and
19 may be taunting down a candle to its wick
asking to be noticed but
it is ready to be uncovered
19 is golden
You are, almost.

It is 1am
And I am a combination
Of alcohol and thoughts
Too many words and heavy eyelids
I stand at bar
With drink in loose hands
As some attempt conversation
And I
Smile quietly
With vacant eyes
Because there are plenty of people
In this room
That could fill this empty capacity
Put end
To this gap of desolation expanding inside of me
There are plenty
Who I could find momentary comfort in
Possibly even more
But I
Am too blocked off
To call myself open
Too shut down
To even listen to small talk
Or friendly dialogue
The truth is
I am too hung up
On distance
And romance that is more than likely
To never work out
To be able to make the effort
To love someone other than taken
I am so good
At setting my heart on situations
That have been set long before my prescence
I am skilled
At attempting to love person already satisfied
I will never be neccesity
Only drunken shell of girl
Searching through a sea of bodies
For someone who is not there
For someone who will probably never be there
This routine
Of bourbon and late nights
Of strangers and recurrent introductions
Will continue with frequency
But I
Will remain
Unfulfilled
It is 1am
And I am
Still hoping for something
That is perpetually
Unattainable.

I took you to all of the places I remembered as ours, with patience, moving slowly to keep the past of us alive / We kept going, I spoke without saying words, but you understood just as much without me needing to explain / The city was asleep and the night quiet / I saw the glow of your eyes reflecting off the blackened sky / Above the buildings were lights kept from holiday seasons, still lit, like they were begging to be noticed / It was a kind of reminder, symbol for a Christmas we spent together but separate / I wondered how we got here from where we used to be / The heart that once held yours is mine to call it, but I don’t want to / To claim the space of it is useless, the empty, is of no use to a hollow being and this showing you around is nothing more than a dream that never happened, one that never will.

I'm not a morning person
But I think I could be
If I woke up
Next to you

It's as if
Time didn't want us to be together
Almost as much
As I did.

Words can not be used as seduction
Poetry is not a means for attraction
And placement of sentences will not ever be ****
So when you tell me
That you long to love a writer
Know that it is not possible
To make love with only words
That the way language comes together on paper is not a form of sensuality
My words are not meant to make you want me
If it worked that way
Then we would all be attracted
To books
And I am attracted to books
But I'd rather love a human
So when you tell me
You want to love a writer
Know you are longing to love something
Much greater

I always come back
Regardless of what I do
I return to you

We grew up
Quickly
Wishing to be older
Wanting nothing more
Than freedom
16 meant driver's license
18 meant cigarettes
And 21 was left for liquor
For gambling
And finally calling yourself
A grown up

It was his birthday
A few weeks ago
The age
We spend our whole lives
Waiting to be
And he came so close
To being it

21
It has been
Half a year
Since his leaving
So abrupt in its presence
Death has a way
Of shaking you
Waking you up
Only to have you fall back asleep
Again
And forget about it
It's hard to remember someone is gone
When you don't see them
Everyday
Loss is funny like that

21
You look through the texts
On your phone
Years back
You didn't know him well
But you knew him
And past tense feels strange
Knowing these kinds of things
Are permanent

21
Your best friend
Introduced you
That night in September
Spent filling lungs with smoke
I think it was a high holiday
The four of you
Laughing over nothing
The irony of it all
Kills me

21
She loved him
Still does

21
Taking hits
Escalates
Into much more
One time
Is all it takes

21
It is his birthday
The first
Without him here
He can finally do
All of the things
We've been doing for years
In secret
In hushed voices
And in hiding from our parents
Except now it is legal
Now it is allowed
Now it is okay
But it is not okay

He is 21
And he is not here
To celebrate

He is 21
And his mother
Is pouring a glass of wine
Alone

He is 21
And his birthday wishes
Sound more like condolences
There are words of grief
Instead of cheers
His facebook
Is a collection of memories
And emotions
He will not be forgotten
We swear

21
We grew up
Wishing to be older
Wanting nothing more
Than freedom
Age may not liberation
But neither
Is death

21
Make sure
To have a drink
For him.

I watch him bite his lip and
Can't help but wish that it were
My own pressed between his teeth
Instead

I feel your warmth next to me like summer rain
falling carelessly on our open palms in July,
not wanting the momentary coolness
to end but consciously aware
that everything does
eventually.

The human body
Regenerates completely new skin cells
Approximately every
27 days
I say this knowing
That I am someone
Your hands have never gotten to know
My skin has mourned the loss of your touch
Grieved for the freckles that never got to know your warmth
No memorization of the path your fingertips took while
Tracing the lines of my skin
I am a whole new person
Since you've last held me
My body
Is not the only thing that has changed
Crazy how
So much can differ
From the last time
You knew me
But today
You don't
It only took 27 days for me to become someone else
I am someone else now
My limbs can attest to that
They no longer crave to be cradled by your arms
You do not know me
And it only took 27 days for me to realize
That I
Never really knew you
At all.

A guy who
only cares when
he's inside

When will you learn
to stop opening the door
for people like
that?

We are hungry lips and eager hands,
Reckless teeth and touching
It is 4 am and we are too much alive to care about the consequences of later
I can only wonder,

Will you regret me tomorrow?

Tonight was
The first crescent moon in a while
And the last time your lips
Will touch mine
See I have never been one
To believe in religion
Or anything for that matter
But loving you almost makes me have to
Because how else could something feel so **** right

Tonight I learned
That attraction can not be reversed
That although
Six months have gone by
Since our skin last met
We still have magnets in our bones
Opposite particles that reach for eachother with open arms
I can not explain it
Physics is just complicated like that
I am just complicated like that
I did not mean for this to happen tonight
Retracing the maps of your body
Was not in my plans
Was not my intention
I simply wanted
Closure
But what I got tonight
Was so much more
Than that

Before tonight
I had spent months placing my rage over hot water
Letting it boil inside of me
I had spent months
Learning to hate
Knowing that the only alternative
Was to love
I had spent months
Writing solely envy and nostalgia
Hoping that a pen and some words
Were enough for you to want to let me back in

I have learned
How to ball point my feelings into letters
But not how to embrace them

See I wanted to hate you
Wanted to scoff
Roll eyes
At the thought of you

Awaiting the day
When your prescence
Would be synonymous with inexistence

But it never happened
I've learned that feelings
Can not be erased
Only covered
Shoved into corners of your mind
And attempted to be replaced
But you simply cannot
Just change something into nothing
And to me you will never be nothing

You are a flame I set inside myself
Long ago
That will never cease
Will never burn out
The fire tonight
Was only a reminder
That some things
Will never die

So I'll leave
For the other side of the country
5,000 miles away
With less weight on my usually heavy heart
Knowing that I left part of it
With you

You can have it
It is yours to keep
It always has been
And it always will be
You always will be
My first
Love.

I want you
To touch my silk skin
Until it turns sand paper rough
Run your hands down my spine
Until it curves into arch
Wrap your legs around mine
Until we become unison
Hold my unsteady body
Until it is still as the night
Hold it tightly
Until we wake to sunrise
I want you
To warm my lips with yours
Until they are no longer blue
Warm my heart with yours
Until it is no longer blue
I want you
I want you
I want you.

I never quite know
The exact words
To describe how I feel
It seems
As if I am always
Searching
But I guess
That is why
I write
In hopes that
Someday
I will find them.

You do not miss me
It is impossible to miss something
That was never wanted
In the first place.

Do you remember
The first time you held somebody's hand
Felt the way their skin pulsed against yours
How your heart attempted to escape from your chest
And your stomach became home to 10 million moths
Flying into the light all at once
Do you remember
The nervous laughs
And the smile that lay between pigmented cheeks
Drawn from admiration
And bliss
How you never before found glow
In a lantern not your own
Do you remember
The lips that first wiped you of your sanity
How they brushed against yours with  seemingly perfect unision
Replayed over and over again
Heart reminding brain
Reminding body
How good it felt to be loved
To be touched
If that could be bottled
If any of the first time nostalgia and discovery
Could be placed in a glass jar
And preserved
Than we would need no reminder
Of how it felt to feel
And how it felt to be
Alive.

You are the poem
I have been writing for years
I do not know
The ending.

You weren't as great
As I painted you out to be
Maybe I'm just a good artist.

I am homesick
For a place
I have not yet found.

missing you when
you are here
that's the worst way
to have it

isn't it?

this isn't heartbreak,
no,
this is swollen
and there's a difference between the two

heartbreak is what you feel when
you get your heart broken
swollen is what happens when
you give too much of yourself away

and I do
too often
without thinking

I love
like everyone is dying
and my passion is the only thing that can save us

like the end of the world is coming
and all we have to save the human race
is my weakness

I care
like it is an alternative to breathing
and every available ounce of oxygen has gone missing

I give
like a one time supply
that thinks itself endless

like my limbs can regenerate without trying
like my lips are incapable of cracking
like my bones were made for splitting

I give
like if I were to empty out completely
I could still call myself whole

like I can auction off this body
and still refer to it as home

like I can hand out my vulnerability in pieces
and still have something for myself

this isn't heartbreak,
no,
nor is it swollen

this is a resignation
from my conscience
to my desperation

this is a reminder
for my own
to give all I have sparingly

and this is an apology
to my sanity
for when I don't listen

Addiction is not beautiful
It is nights spent cradling bitter liquid in a glass bottle
Held against your heart like a bible
Scraping the ash out from underneath your fingernails
It is learning how to cover up the parts that you are ashamed of
Scarred skin that shows every war lost with yourself
Finding ways to pull fabric over even your darkest corners
And figuring out how to leave the least visible damage
It is crushed pills making a home in the sides of your nostrils
And holding back your head until the bleeding stops
It is nocturnal nights and sleep filled days
Obsession over every single sober second
Addiction is ruthless
Harrowing
Agonizing
It is something that nobody chooses
And it is anything but
Beautiful.

When he tells you that he is going to be honest
Brace yourself for the worst
Expect nothing less than blow to the chest
And make sure there is something to fall back on
There will be no arms to catch you
When he tells you that he met someone else
He is trying to tell you
That he met someone better
What he is saying
Is that he wants to love her
And that you
Are nothing more than a release
What he wants from you
Is purely physical
He will use your body
But crave her heart
It is understandable
There is no reason for him to want yours
Broken things aren't good for much anyway
He will ask for no strings
Unaware that you are used to being a puppet
And every time you open your mouth
You spill words that have been silenced by men's hands
How many times do they have to enter you without permission
For your lips to shut completely
Strings or not,
You are still dangling from a thread
When he tells you that he doesn't want to hurt you
Believe him
Anyone who really wants to
Will not tell you
What he doesn't know
Is that pain is inevitable
And you have so much of it already
You swallow it in doses mixed with memory every single night
Closed eyes and flashback
There are too many reminders already
You do not need any more
Instead cover up with a cigarette
And then another
I guess it's better
To know from the beginning
That he will end up leaving
A fair warning
Not to get attached
Does he know
That your heart is made of glue
Impossible to hold just once
Does he know
Of your velcro skin
And how it rips every time you are let go
You wonder how many times it will take
Before you learn to stop clinging to sand paper
When he tells you to keep this to yourself
And to not tell your friends that he is an *******
You will oblige
After all,
His reputation is far more important than your sanity
Far more superior than your dignity
And everyone knows a straight white boy's biggest priority
Is worrying about what others think of them
Instead of telling anyone
You will just write a poem
With the intent that someday the whole world will know
And maybe one day they will

When he ends all of this by saying that he is here for you
If you ever need anything
Laugh
Because you know the only thing you truly need
Is a good book
And a bottle of whiskey
Make sure to tell him
You never needed him
To begin with
And you never will.

We lay gasping for air
Speaking with breathless whispers
I can feel your warmth against my skin

I find the place to lay my head
The place where our necks fit together like puzzle pieces
And our freckles align like constellations

Bodies intertwined like tangled wires
Seemingly impossible to separate
Because they are lost in one another

Our tired figures rest still but busy minds run constant
We sink into the sheets
Forever drowning in this momentary euphoria.

you'll call me babe when we're together
and when we're not you won't call at all

I'll let you in and you'll show yourself out
step onto the mat, leave your mark then
leave for good

it's the invitation that's too easy
it's the only caring in the moment
it's the lack of resistance
it's the welcome without the stay
it's the goodbye without saying

you'll call me beautiful and then you'll never call me again
you'll go on your way and I'll watch you as you do

treating your arms like a rental, you can take my body for motel
it's just right now, nothing permanent
one night or
maybe a second
pack your things, don't turn around
I swear I'll be fine
clean the room, mop the floor for evidence and
we wont look back after the first time

this beginning will become end
we'll try to make us last
speaking of
soon and
later
but I don't hold my breath-
I need that to survive this
I don't wait
not for you to call
not for you to come again

After the heartbreak
You will learn to love again
It may take
Weeks
Months
Or years
But it will happen
After the fall
You will learn to build yourself back up
From the pieces left behind
It may take
Weeks
Months
Or years
But it will happen
After the spillage
Through all of this emptiness
You will be whole again
It may take
Weeks
Months
Even years
But it will happen
Change will happen
Life will happen
And you
Will be you again.

Everybody loves a good mess
Until it's their turn to clean it up
And restoration is only appealing from afar

So I will fix myself
Without him.