there are new ones
but I don't know them
the way I do
know you
the words that
might offend
sayings, actions
that confuse semi-strangers
but are like
breathing, sighing and
blinking to
you, who have
often sat right
at the root of my
soul, interpreting
calls as they come out
and pressing your hands
into my shoulders
and looking
into my
mind.
they don't know
anything but
my outdoor
shell
and as I am
concerned
maybe they never
can
or would I
let them
or
will.

can you stop
prodding at
my heart
disturbing it
like a rock garden
or pooled sand
my insides are
not so zen
can be disturbed
like cold waves
and every time
I still them
arrange my
mental hair
and tuck in my
theoretical shirt
you just come down the
aisle
and unfold it all
again.

a thousand
invisible lines
every time we
have to speak
don't fly out
of my fingers
"how...
are you?"
"are you...
eating"
Do you sleep?
Do you miss
anything about me?
all the words
that I can't slip
into your mental
pockets
no notes
with little
stars
stick figures
of cowboys
climbing door frames
I want to ask
about the ipod
I stashed under
the coffee table
but instead I
feel this leave
my lips
"yes,  Ok. It's
fine....
goodbye."
And just
like that I
backspace my
mind, delete
the syllables
and just try and
concentrate on
writing off
the way I'm
not supposed
to be feeling
about
you.

at night it's
the hardest
I turn to
your side and
trace the dent your
form would have made
sleeping here for
weeks, your hand
so sweet and heavy
on my hip
chest rising and
falling all
fluttering eyes and
dark hair.

at night it's
the quietest
the fan slowly whirring
as the dark deepens
and I can't
hold out any
longer and fade
only to wake up
confused because
you're still
not
here.

waking up
without
and there's no
warm barrier for
the wind.
the shell
of duvet, pillow
and sheet is
scentless,
soulless
and no
longer a haven
for my hours
without
you to
guard
me while
I rest.

being alone
is like breathing
when you think
about
focus on it
you can't quite
seem to do it
right
the breaths heave
in out, up down
jagged and alien
you don't get the
right saturation
the reflexive feeling
you temporarily forget
until distracted
you fall asleep
and your body takes over.
I-
I wish it was just
like that.
But it
it is not.

I don't want to
be her again.
She was so
lost.  
And now,
Wild like a wind,
bashing against grass.
useless like weak rain.
Without her books
without her home
and very close
to losing her
heart.