this afternoon i saw a cowboy driving a minivan on 84
there’s not a whole lot to be said about that

oh god i was worried i had a lump in my breast that my body was finally following the maternal prophecy that is passed along like a family heirloom
turns out it was just one of my ribs i haven’t felt in years
or maybe ever

i like to pretend the aches and pains are just in various places a heart could be if we were existing on multiple planes
nothing poetic about my body decaying rapidly around me because i need to stop treating it like it’s a leg caught in a trap, trying to limp its way to the end of the highway

i am not sure why i hold on to things that don’t need to be held so tightly
it’s like i beat the dead horse before it even had the chance to die

your mom is selling the piano we used to sing at together and i am finally, finally, finally deleting your voicemails
making cosmic and electronic room for more and less and the same
my childhood bedroom is up for sale again and it’s not like me to not look back but i find myself shifting focus to a future that i haven’t even opened up to
i own a car i haven’t cried in
i own a house you haven’t seen
i own a dog you haven’t met
i own too much and not enough

don’t tell me there is nowhere to go but up
poetically, metaphorically, and physically i am 6 feet under ground
(basement living baby)
fake plants i can’t **** next to childhood mementos i won’t let go of
there’s so many things i am not ready to let go of

i have been spending more time trying to force a different timeline
stand here, tug the string, open close open close open close the laundry room door
the sun still shines the same here and there and nowhere and everywhere and trying to make sense of it all could take all night

it can’t be all or nothing and it can’t be none or something
i will miss you when you die but i will be thankful for the warmth in the meantime
my head is full of glitter but my legs are full of cinder blocks and i didn’t know i was signing up for a lifetime of being left behind

reverse collateral in the form of switched favorite sweatshirts
a future promise and split lips from making up for lost time
i didn’t feel as cold as i usually do because i was the sun shining from the inside to the outside

texting my loved ones like i am writing them individually wrapped “i miss you” poems
i am so full of this wanting of wanting to reach out and wanting to reach back in

no longer aspiring for greatness, simply aspiring to find the middle ground

i think what hurts the most is that i have been holding onto memories of you longer than you ever held me

this isn’t appropriate or necessary but for the past 3 years i have been aching for an another intoxicated text that would tell me i came up in a conversation

how can i rewrite a goodbye in terms either of us can cope with?
let’s blame the weather or the medication or the elephant politely sitting on the loveseat or the piles of ***** laundry
we can’t keep meeting like this

i’m excited to know you more than sometimes, but sometimes i cry about parties i never got to go to  

and you’ll learn that i love the east coast the way i love the outside of a bed
the only thing i am consistent with is my ability to be half in half out

don’t you miss when things were so out of sorts that it still felt like home?