I'm sorry lover for I could not carry the weight of all the stone and bone tied to your shoulders, the darkness only thickens as you grow older. Try as I may I will never succeed and I fear that I am never going to be what you need.

A familiar sadness swells in my lungs like I refuse to breathe, when I try to stand up tall I quickly fall back on my knees. i am weightless, gravity has forgotten me it seems. the walls dissolve and darkness crawls in around my feet. you turned out the lights and you're angry I can't see.

i think the scary thing about ‘losing’ somebody (not to death but just a parting of ways in general) is that depending on how close you let them get to you, they saw you for who you honestly were. it’s like if somebody takes a candid photograph of you and then keeps it from you. they get to take that snapshot, that moment or fraction of you, and bring it with them.

sometimes they distort the image out of bitterness, or anger, and even jealousy. and they share that misconception of you with others. and those other people will hear your name and pin that ugly thing next to it and say “oh I heard about them”. and that’s the thing. they didn’t see you, they just heard about you. they haven’t had the chance to get behind the viewfinder and capture that raw and real photograph of you. a memory of you that is all their own. something special and unique between the two of you.

and sometimes people take their photographs of you and put them in a box under their beds, inside a desk drawer, or shoved between books and loose paper. you’re still there, floating around. but out of sight, out of mind. you do it too, you know. everyone does.

but then there are those people, even though you haven’t heard from them in years, who have your special candid photograph framed. right next to their beds. and you don’t even know. maybe you never will. but there you are. your stupid expression, your laughing grin, that embarrassing haircut. right where they left you.

It is a burning feeling. It ignites in your chest and the fire spreads from your heart to your head. Your mouth putters and pouts, and whispers of breath fight for words. There are no words. There is just the raw empty feeling of being forgotten. And the flames fill your lungs with thick, heavy smoke and you choke on your own sobs because everything keeps falling before you have the chance to hold on. You are the balloon tied to a very thin string, and he's cutting you loose. He’s done with you. It’s a wicked and terrible thing that another human could do this to you. And it's even more horrible that you let them.

i’ll read before bed, and you’ll do as you do. my hair in pins from the day, falling out. and you’ll help me, gently, hunt for each one in my mess of a mane.

i’ll count them and count them before i let myself sleep because if i’m not careful, i might lose one.

and i’ll lay next to you in the dark and count the breaths you take because if i’m not careful, i’ll miss the last one.

how hollow are the bones in me
that call to sea when i am out to sleep
what simple steady breath that swells
inside my chest and overwhelms
a faint pain resides in my mind
the eb and flow of a stronger tide
and though tempest turns to storm
the love i lost was never scorned

We have long, sheer, pinkish curtains that reach the floor of our room on each window. My roommate and I always leave the left window open because it gets so stuffy in here. On windy days and nights, the gusts pull at the curtains making them dance and flutter. Sometimes it's with great violence and they get ****** against the screen, accompanied by the great howls and whistles of the wind. And sometimes when it's barely breezy, the curtains ripple. As if a child playing hide-and-go-seek is anxiously waiting behind it, unknowingly revealing her location.

when i was younger, every time i dove into a pool, i would test myself to see how long i could hold my breath. i would count the seconds in my head, in the eerie silence, in the muffled utopia that swelled around me in the deep, weightless water. and every time i got closer and closer to the end of my breathe, i would feel a tight pressure around my neck, and my eyes would swell, and i would for a moment lose myself in the most exhilarating and most terrifying experience.

and then i would shoot out the air from my lungs into the water. the bubbles would burst and jet out from my nostrils and mouth. and i would resurface, breaking the water - gasping for a new gulp of oxygen.

i feel the same way when i let somebody in. when i trust somebody new. i feel like the air i held on to for so long escapes and i need to hurry to the surface for safety. i need to beg the atmosphere for air.