one, i cannot breathe. my lungs are inhaling and exhaling but i am not breathing. your name still echoes inside my chest like a balloon that is slowly losing air and i cannot breathe.

two, her name is a red solo cup and a midnight conversation. she is a dare that your friends jokingly made and with the buzz of alcohol in your chest, you said yes

[three, they told me at your funeral that it was only a joke, this wasn't meant to happen, guilt was on their faces and the sky was an odd color of both death and sadness, i cannot decide what is worse; the feeling of the rough thorns that poke my legs or the silent promise you made me that will never be fulfilled]

four, the taste of white wine reminds me of your pale skin and the glass that touches my hips when i inevitable drop the bottle does not feel like anything, i am not numb; i can still taste the heaviness of 2:35 am wine without you on my lips but i am not sad either, it is more like an unleashed phantom that haunts my mind when i try to sleep at night

five, the police came over to my house last week, they asked me if i had anything to do with your lover; i cannot remember the words that i told them all i know is the sound of the heavy door being closed and the bitter taste of sour strawberries that come when i keep biting my cheeks to stop from crying, i've been crying too much lately and i'm sick of it.

six, i tried to visit her yesterday. i tried to bring myself to get lost in the feeling of her smoke that clouded my mind and i tried to understand why you did this. why you loved her more than you loved me, why her dizzying scent was more of a safe haven than my all consuming love for you.

seven, i visited your dealer today, i asked him if you had told him anything about why you were so sad but he didn't say anything, or at least i don't remember it. all i remember is the ringing in my ears when i walked home that night and the traffic lights of new york city. i was alive today, in a way i never have been, i couldn't breathe but i didn't need to.

eight, tomorrow i will clean out the rest of your things in our closet and i will visit our old coffee shop and try not to focus on how i am not breathing without you anymore, because unconsciously i know i always will; that was always the difference between you and i, you smoked to get lost but i kept on drowning because i was already found

(h.l.)

a state or condition
of which
this whole **** world
is being put
in the pocket
of your heart
being hard to breath
hard to move

©IGMS

dreams are meant for sleeping
and you are my dream, darling
so i want to sleep tight
to reach you out tonight*

©IGMS

I wish we could stay in this moment forever
With the music playing softly in the background,
Us laying around and laughing about one thing or another.
There are no worries,
No tests,
No stupid teachers,
No parents.
Just us.
Laughing and having fun.
I hope that when I look back on these years,
I'll remember this moment and
This feeling of just pure joy and lightness.
I wish I could forever live in this moment.

it's hard to pinpoint the exact time and place at which i messed up,
at which i suddenly shrunk in appeal,
at least in your eyes.

but it's somewhere.
somewhere in those 26 weeks,
maybe towards the middle,
perhaps near the end.

i don't know if this is the part where i apologize;
as a matter of fact, i don't even know if this is the type of thing you apologize for.
but either way, i will.
i'm sorry.
that we didn't work out.
that you've likely forgotten my face, forgotten my voice.
that i haven't forgotten yours.
that i couldn't be what you wanted.

i've been wanting to ask you how you feel about change.
i want to know all your regrets,
all your deepest fears, darkest memories.
but i know you wouldn't answer.

i've been wanting to ask you how you feel about change,
and if you were to ask me the same question,
i might give another apology.
because endings come so soon and i know i could've been better.
i wanted to be better.

//

on some days i know i was enough.
on other days i hope i was enough.
and on the rest of the days, i can't bring myself to care even when i should.

we forget people too quickly, i think.
and yet, at the same time, not quickly enough.

maybe i'll find some comfort in the fact that we'll both become ghosts to the people that we were too afraid to disappoint.

but even then you'll walk right through me.

(a.m.)