__________________

a girl with a mind like a tunnel
somewhere amidst a winding mountain road
quiet and familiar
the tunnel
calm and inviting

as his headlights
approach
from the distance
particles of light
start finding their way inside
the tunnel less dim
with every
heartbeat
until
everything is illuminated within
fractions of a second
his headlights span out
into every corner
and every crevasse
and brings every brushed away memory  
into full view
warmly embracing every hidden secret  
and for a moment
the tunnel becomes
unnaturally bright
          the kind of bright that makes you
          squint your eyes and
          hold your breath and
          dig the tips of your fingers
          into the foam of your steering wheel
          but you don't get afraid because
          your eyes adjust before
          the fear sets in
and when your eyes do adjust
you forget that it's ever been dark at all
and you feel as though this light
can last forever
          but our eyes can only handle
          so much light  

now he's approaching the exit
and his headlights
are reaching out
beyond the arch of the tunnel
far into the thick woods and towards the
mountain tops
as he passes through on his way
to some final destination
and he never even thought to stay

so cherish
the very last seconds
and cherish
every fraction of his
beautiful bright light
before the tunnel
goes dim
and everything is
quiet
and all that is left is a numbed pain
          the kind of pain you feel
          when your pupils
          dilate
          so fast
          they hurt

Leaving messages on foggy bathroom mirrors. Leaving lipstick crescents on the rims of tea mugs. Leaving the front door unlocked. Leaving, a lot.

have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?

they say
"in this day and age
sane people don't memorize phone numbers anymore
the times are changing
don't you know?
it'll work out, it just needs time
things change with time
don't you know?"
and believe me, I tried
but I can only give myself to you
so many times
until it begins to feel futile
and unbearable
I'd call your number, thinking
maybe with hearing your voice
I'd be rebuked by reality
but with each call
I was ****** deeper
into the black hole I created
that is you
I never doubted your fidelity
but rather my own
how close I've come
to giving you up
and how often I did
scared to abide for even another second
because your hollow excuses didn't prevent
the pain that shadowed
every cancelled dinner date
every 'I owe you' and
every missed call
I don't know what it was
or where it came from
that awful urge that dialed
when I knew you were asleep
or out of town
but it didn't take long
for the string of words
"you've reached
the voice mailbox of
five five five zero one three eight
please leave your name and message
at the tone
or press pound
for more options"
to be etched into my brain
where the sound of your voice
used to be
it's kinda funny, isn't it?
how I never cared for
the sound of your voice
but I figured
if I heard it enough
I'd get used to it with time
funny how I hardly ever heard it at all
funny how I can't remember it now

I still miss you in my sleep
do you still hear my voice
when I'm not around?