you're burning bridges
faster than you can build them,
making an abandoned
island
out of what was once called paradise      
  
you looked at me with an empty heart
and I tried to fill it  
"you're good, baby, you're so good"  
but my voice was so weak
and you didn't believe me
and, baby, you've gone bad

you're so busy fighting to be relevant
that you forgot to stop
fighting against the boy
with a smile like the moon
and arms like home

you've tried so hard to be tough
that you won't let the good things in
and the bad things won't leave
and you're dying from your own poison,
rotting in your own prison
from the inside out and

you're begging me
for something to quench your thirst but
I could pour you
glass after glass of compassion
and you'd empty it onto the floor because you can't bear to actually drink it

Instead you chase whiskey with self-pity
and I
watch helplessly
as pieces of my past
come dancing to life on stage
in front of me

I can't give hope to arms too shaky to hold it,
can't give faith to a stomach that can't keep it down     
     
"you're good, baby, you're so good," I whispered

but then I walked away and took my words with me, too

Baby, I have a hurricane of hair
and a storm behind my eyes
and one hand on my hip,
ready to fight for my beliefs.
But I wouldn't mind
if you'd be my sunshine,
kiss the lids of my eyes,
I'll take my hand off my hip,
put your hands on my thighs,
I'll let the anger slip away, if just for today
so I can recite for you
my prettiest poetry
in between cinnamon kisses
and tell you stories that I heard
in the rustling of trees on a breeze
and maybe it's too much that I want
to know all of your everything,
but I'm imagining moonlit dancing
and lazy days spent listening to music
and walking through new cities, hand in hand.
We could have it all, baby,
let's just give it a chance.

I think I started writing you away before you were gone
I wanted to make sure I could let you go before I did
I wanted to feel numb when I pushed you away
so I wrote
I put you on pages,
typed chapter titles for every single time you looked at me
I wrote until you were a novel,
read you until you were no longer novel,
and put you on a shelf so I could start waiting to forget about you,
a memory trapped in unused synapses

and after I shut your final chapter
but before your pages had started to collect dust,
I realized what I had done
See, I had taken each word from within me,
harvested my heartstrings, plucking them and mixing them to make ink,
The pieces of you I kept in my heart
sat as words on a page, aging
while my heart, once strong, felt too empty
and cavernous to beat under the weight of the sigh pinning down my chest

In all of my preparing
I had forgotten that I am human

I forgot feelings aren't like a fountain
there's no faucet you can turn off to keep them from
running through your mind
no way to stop them from flowing
back through your mouth when you try to
swallow them, mixed with ***, in your best friend's basement,
days after you forgot that you can't turn off a rainstorm
you can try to catch the raindrops in a bucket
but the bucket you'll need is big enough to drown in
you can try to hold out an umbrella
but if the wind is hard enough
you're still going to end up cold and dripping,
tearstained and shivering
waiting until the sun comes out

I forgot that I can't control the weather,
or anything other than myself for that matter
The end of a storm doesn't equate to the appearance of a rainbow

I realized that just because my fingers twisted around yours until
they melted together doesn't mean you'll forgive me
and that you left tattoos on me that only time will fade
and we're both going to be mad
I found out that
every song that ever reminded me of you doesn't cease to exist
I have to re-watch movies because they're different now, somehow,
and just because my hair is probably still all over your clothes
and I talked to you every day
and you gave me months of memories
and thinking about you is gut-wrenching
doesn't mean that I won't spend days praying for patience
and hoping for healing because
***** it, letting you go doesn't mean I don't miss you

take me to the ocean that's where i want to die
thats where you sat and held me every time i cry
but now my tears are because of you
so it's the only thing i want to do
you're my anchor so release me
and watch me drown at sea
i can see you're done trying
which means i should be done crying
but these tears will never end
into the depths i'll descend
my insides are already sinking
caused by too much deep thinking
so please let me drown in the sea
don't pretend that you'd miss me

I knew I didn't love you anymore
When I could fall asleep without pills
My own exhaustion was enough to quiet my mind, to take my thoughts and smother them
I didn't need alcohol anymore to forget the way your eyes lit up and I can't remember how they made me feel when they looked into mine
I don't spend all day punishing myself for staring at your photographs because I've rid myself of all of them (the first one I burned slowly in my fireplace when I was too weak for anything else and needed to watch the flames lick at your face to remind me of reality, needed to pretend you had burned away too to convince myself you weren't coming back,and the final few I tossed carelessly in the trash as I cleaned my house after a party)

I no longer think of your smile in the moonlight,
Or the way your hair looked in sunlight
I have given away everything you gave me
(including the love, which now resides in the heart of a friend who lost her sister and needs it more than I)
And this letter, my once dearest, is my final goodbye

I can't describe -
How the yearning hides.

How it waits
Until the dead of night,
To wear upon the mind.

I am not a toy
to be put on a shelf
because you are bored.
Not an experiment
ready to sit and collect dust
while you collect data.

I don’t have the energy to
fold my hands on one knee
cross my legs like a
lady in a fashion magazine
and ponder if you
will ever want to play again.

I refuse to wait here quietly, patiently
for you to realize that I’m still here
that I still hang on every word you don’t say.
That I, covered in dust so thick I
wonder if I will ever see my skin while your
lack of presence is a heavy weight in my chest
wasting energy I don’t have just to keep my spirit
from the darkness that it was left in.

I refuse to wait for a proper goodbye
but I fear I will be waiting here forever.