Somehow, time always finds a way to seem smaller when you're counting it in reverse. And the days fall short of the hours, as the hours do the minutes, as the minutes do the seconds, and as I do along side the rate of my heart beat, when your eyes meet mine. And in this moment, when the hands on my watch are moving counter clockwise, you can see right through me. And beyond whatever this is that I am existent in, is more than these bones were designed for. The hands on the clock are stuck in the shape of a question mark and they weren't programmed to sing their song when midnight arrives. I wasn't programmed to pace myself for when midnight arrived. By now the time has disguised itself as a wizard of a slow form of magic, kissing my lips, and making promises for tomorrow although tomorrow had come and gone. And when I asked how I knew when it was time to part I heard time tell me that I could stay, as long as I wished. And so I wished I could stay for a lifetime, until the sun collided with my heart and shot me into a new set of skin to dwell in until the next time. Nevertheless the hands on the clock stretched their limbs up and across to make love to the numbers they had left behind temporarily. Here, I was served my biggest fear on a silver platter and told to run as fast as I could. Time was casting spells behind my back and I fell into its curse. Time has forgotten my name and I am trying to find the will to unforget his. Perhaps I met time in his darkest hour and it positioned it's shadows around its closest victim. Or perhaps time has never been on my side.

And somehow your lips still taste like "I love you" after I've spent all this time trying to shake this feeling.

One day I'll wake up with a little less heartache and a little more wisdom and I'll realize that love shouldn't feel like shattered windows and locked doors.

I've been thinking a lot about the stars and the sky, and how the constellations spell out our names on the lonely nights when everyone is asleep but our minds are awake wandering, just as they always have.

I keep promising myself that there must be something more than screaming at the constellations hoping I might get a response from you.

I've followed the light to the places where our footprints are visible as if the cement had been wet when we passed through and I fear that these stars won't live to tell our story
Stars are dead long before you see them and they burn furiously regardless of my protests.
These stars will vanish  much like you did but we're under the same sky tonight.

No one could understand what she was running from until her curves turned into storm clouds that washed away the disguises that occupied her fears. When her secrets began to stick out if the cracks in her smile no one expected to see monsters breaking off of each word she spoke. Her passage was narrow but it was vulnerable - no one knew why it was so hard to stay for too long but she watched each soul turn away when they could find their way through her riddles. Her life was a carousel ride and she became accustomed to living in a constant circle although she dreamt of the day when she would finally reach the detour that would take her back home.

He was afraid to fall in love with the girl who drank until her blood turned to ***** because he could never seem to figure out what it is she was running from.

When I looked at your eyes, I didn't notice any color that reminded me of green swimming pools in the midst of July. I didn't see any sort of light or sparkle that
made me fall in love with you all over again. I didn't see any words that could assure me that you were suppose to be there staring back into my eyes at that
moment.
Instead, when I looked at your eyes, I saw so much confusion. I saw the way that your eyebrows raised but your eyelids lowered the more you spoke.
I saw the way that you needed reassurance that I was still there, so you lifted your eyes, but your head stayed down.
That night your eyes told me more than your voice ever could. And now, all I've done is wonder what my eyes have told you.
I hope that they told you that my knees still buckle when I see you and I can't seem to move forward after you've just walked by me. I hope they told you that
I'm not sure how not to love you. And I hope they told you that, the only place I've ever really felt like I belonged was with you. I hope they tell you that since
that night, I've stared at the empty sky begging for a shooting star so I could waste another wish on you.
I hope my eyes revealed the way that I tried to look into so many other pairs of eyes and all I've found is that I look for yours each time. And I hope they told
you that I'm not sure how many eyes I'll have to look at until I feel like I did when I saw your eyes.

She was born on fire. Ignited with hope and a lack of regrets. When she smiled it was like time had stopped - and for a moment I'm sure it did. She lived her life starting forest fires but she could never understand why she always destroyed everything that crossed her path. When they tried to tame her, her flames only grew bigger and those flames lit the saddest parts of those that she ran down.

When she decided to bury her flames, you couldn't help but ask about the ashes that settled underneath her eyes. She lived her life furiously and when she lost her flames she lost the parts of herself she thought she needed.

Once was a girl who lit the world with her flames until her sadness became too great to keep her ignited.

The summer you came along I found myself running red lights and passing stop signs. I lived like I was on fire and you were the one who kept those flames ignited. I disregarded the caution signs that stood in front of you for miles when I was making my way towards you and now I can only wish that I had paid more attention to the warning lables. The winter that you left, I washed away my flames with tears that settled beneath my eyes and as those tears mixed with each sleepless night the ash piles grew bigger and I wondered how much I could hold. Those days, I lived furiously but more importantly I lived with you by my side. That summer you came along you left your marks on me like foofootprints in wet cement. I knew that those marks could never be undone so I convinced myself that you had to stay so maybe that's why the winter that you left I didn't drive when the light turned green and I didn't pass the stop sign even after I was sure there were no cars passing through. I hoped that I could fill your void so I cast my shadow so wide that almost everyone seemed to fit under my wing. When I realized that I could only find your eyes in every pair I looked into, I had to move away from my shadow. That summer you came around I found what it meant to be the worst version of myself and the winter you left I found what it meant to not remember what I ever was before I fell in love with you.

The night that we stood on those steps I begged for an explanation that I wasn't going to get. Spending months searching for the answers in the sky that I could only find from you didn't teach me how I would have to accept that I was never going to find those answers even with me staring you in the face. I've spent too much time sweeping those feeling under the rug until there wasn't any room for the dust that was your memory. I worried about forgetting you but what scared me more is that I was feeling you forget me and it stung a little more everyday. That night, you told me you were "sorry for everything" but I wasn't sure if you knew what everything was and I wonder if to this day you have any idea what everything actually meant. I ask myself what you imagined when you though about "everything" you were sorry for and I wonder if it included me searching for you at the bottom of bottles only to find that I would forget my own name before I could ever forget yours. I wonder if you knew the kind of damage you had caused but then I realized that you never turned around to check. You lived your life through the rear view mirror and so I wondered what would come of the mess that you left behind but then I realized that that mess was me. I had been the cities that you ran down and the buildings that were abandoned. After that night I started to befriend my sadness and I watched my self destruction set in as I listened to you say you loved me for the last time. If I had known it was the last time I was hearing it I would have asked you to say it again to scream it to whisper it to sing it, to mean it. If I knew this was the last time you would look at me the way you did when I realized I was so desperately in love with you I would have stayed a little longer. Since that night, I have yet to hear a sound that is sweeter than the way you spoke and I have yet to see a sight that is more beautiful than the way your eyes lit up under the street lights. That night I knew that the streets would remember our footsteps so I walked a little slower. Now, when I see those streets I notice that the rain has washed out foot prints away and I find that our imprints were only temporary. And when I felt your heart beat I found that it would only beat for me for the remainder of the night so I tried to hold on I tried to memorize the palpation but I'm afraid I've lost it somewhere within the parts of me you tore down. When that night was over I realized I left you with parts of me I thought I needed and I questioned how I could go on without you. When I tried to forget you I forgot who I was along the way and I couldn't win. That night I stood on those steps and I looked into the eyes of someone I thought I knew I rested my worries into the hands of someone I thought I trusted and I let you tear down my walls even though I knew I wouldn't never be strong enough to rebuild them. I can only imagine what you must have thought when you watched parts of me fall through the floor boards of vacant houses and disappear into the universe and I wonder if you can admit to yourself that you took away my armor and sent me into battle with nothing but scrap metal. I hope that when you look back to the night on those steps that you remember the way I fought for you and I hope you can see that I haven't fought for anything since that night.
When I tried to turn my back to you and run I could only find myself walking, thinking that maybe you'd catch up to me someday. Spending months of waiting up for you to come around only taught me that'd I'd be walking forever so I learned to pace myself, because I'd be walking for a long time.