there's 20 miles
my shattered heart
her lips
and silence
between us

i am done with being
strong; i am not an earthquake
or a hurricane, and this is not
natural, just a disaster

i want to collapse,
i want to relax,
i want to relapse

I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)

The butterflies*
        turned into ravens,
Feasting over
        my ***** feelings.

My couch still whispers
the trailing ends of a few
of your sentences and I
can hear them from my
bed in the next room.
I've tried to block them
out but hands and pillows
and quilts can only do
so much and eventually
the words seep into my
dreams and make me
believe that this will all
work itself out in time.
I need new furniture.