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?
we have been here before
that means something
not sure what but it does
there’s 2 weeks 5 years ago that i would have done anything (i mean anything) to change
don’t you know i would have done it all?
football games, brunch with your mom, climbed the stairs of the museum a hundred times if it meant we would be off-center and a little cloudy like my mom said
i keep writing these hoping you will see just one
there’s an absence in my bed that i can’t help but feel with all of me
there’s an absence in my head that i can’t feel at all
let me know when you get the smoke signals that i started sending again
let me know how leo season treated you this year
trying my best to write this as if you’re not running out of time
not everything’s about me but shifting the blame never helped either of us, did it?
i can't help but keep reading and then rereading between the lines of the text messages that i have been getting less and less of since march 13th
recently what i have so far is
that's incredibly kind"
"what if i get more tired? either from napping or in general"
i don't know what life is going to be like when he finally stops waking up
i guess we are both just waiting to find out