I like the feeling of warm water on my back,
it passes the time.
for I am timid, leaving room,
my mind etches an arms length away,
your hand in mine.

I’ll write about you after you’re gone,  
how your heart beat so hard
against my head in the sun.
sweet grass and dirt on my nose,
you’ll wash me clean,
we’ll meet again and turn to mud.

I’ll find solace in the sun,
the way it beats down on my face.
it’ll turn me red with love,
like your words against my ears.

you’ll lead us to the quiet places,
forage us a home.
we’ll build from sticks and stones.
It’ll rain as we sleep,
covering us in tears.
kick my feet up on your leg,
passing the time,
with warm water on my back.

The first two weeks

I lie in bed shaking
As soon as I wake up
Two hours too early

Toss and turn
Sick to my stomach
I cry in the shower
And on my way to work

One month after

I find myself in bars alone
drinking until the memory of you fades
I know that I should leave
But unlike you I choose to stay.

I slept with somebody new,
I left in the middle of the night
When I realized
I wasn't lying next to you

Two months after*

I forgot the sound of your voice
I've done some things I shouldn't
It went through my nose
And into my brain
I'm dodging men like bullets
I'm numbing all the pain

Three months after

I text you that I love you
And you never reply
I haven't cried in months now
But I still can't say goodbye
I forget the way you smell
Your side of the bed is filled with books
I remember when you first said you loved me
My heart, oh how it shook.

I am always sick to my stomach,
shaking and numb.
Incapable of feeling neither
sadness or love.

I fought through flames thinking I had
emerged unscathed,
Only bearing wounds beneath my surface,
Am I weak or am I brave?

Holding my breath under the covers as I count the moves that led me here,
Holding on to every word you had said,
so close and so dear.

I paint vibrant images in my mind that I cannot replicate on paper,
I am convinced I can do everything on my own now,  
I am my own savior.

My edges have grown so rigid and cold,
and I am too young to feel this old.
Looking out the window tracing my finger over the hills in the distance,
Wondering if one day I'll ever think back and miss this.

The way you ran your hands over the bones in my hips,
Caressing my thighs and biting my lips.
You are gone but never too be forgotten,
I will always have the memory of you to forever get lost in.

A long car ride on a hot summer day,
Driving fast past the trees.

Your hand grasping my thigh tightly,
As you whisper "you're always such a tease"

I wear a little white dress,
With easy access.

Your hand makes its way slowly up my thigh.
As I let out a long, drawn out sigh.

My head now leaning against the cold window,
You retract your hand and the car begins to slow.

The sun illuminates the reds in my hair,
I run through the tall grass young and without a care.

You stand behind watching from afar,
Snapping pictures of the trees,
Of me,
Of your car.

I make my way back to you,
Standing closely by your side,
You take my hand in yours,
Asking me if I mind.

Our love forbidden by the decades in between,
We always said age was just a number,
And nothing ever is as it seems.

I wake up lonely,
It was only just a dream.

Why is it that I always shake when I'm anxious?
Re-reading our old messages, and skipping through pages.
You enjoyed every inch of every word that I had said,
I yearn so deeply to be the only thought that runs through your head.

I replay in my mind every second of our last conversation,
The tension that hung heavy in a room where my words now stay wasted,
On a man who only pretended he cared,
All the promises he made tucked messily in a box somewhere.

I am now neurotic and obsessive,
But I'm young and won't learn my lesson.

I'll spend the next few months dreaming of you as I lay in bed,
Shaking and cold and out of breath,

Because I tossed away, into you, all that I had left.

Remember our plans for the cruise to Alaska?
I had dreams about that trip for a long while after.
Snowy hills, and crisp cold air,
Polaroids of the dark grey ocean in a pile somewhere.  

You said I was intelligent and pretty,
Although I  always felt more annoying than witty.
And I know I didn't go about things in a conventional way,
But I still pray every night that I'll see you again someday.

Before me you explained that you've  been left without love and a broken heart,
And I promised i'd never do that to you from the start,
Maybe I've failed you and pushed you back into your shell,
But I've always hoped you were nothing other than well.

I always reflect on your stories about back then,
The 90's getting drunk to A Perfect Circle with your best friend,
I listen to that album now on repeat almost everyday,
It reminds me of you and all the things I wish I could say.

And as chills make their way down my spine,
I envision a future time when everything will be fine,
Even if it's never anything more than just friends,
I hope to be able to speak with you again.

With your big blue eyes,
And your warm heart,
I wish there was a button where I could press re-start,
On a story that could have been so much more,
But is now left unanswered behind a closed door.

It's been a while since I've written a poem,
But I knew that no matter what you deserved your own.
I'll go to sleep tonight and dream about Alaska,
Your warm hands around my waist snapping pictures of the snowy pastures
Coated in new beginnings and what could have been,
We'll talk about how we'll never go home ever again.

Gypsy died on a date unknown.
We found her surrounded by moldy food, in her apartment, alone.

My grandmother who prayed for Jesus to be in my heart,
Lay lifeless on the couch,
falling apart.

Dad was in rehab and we gave him a call
Sitting In the hallway up against the wall.

He answered and said, "I'm doing so good! Never been better, like I knew I would!"

The news of his mothers death, with him being so far away,
Caused him to drop the phone and start screaming in pain.
"Oh god, no this can't be true"
He wasn't even there to pay his dues.

I Flipped through Polaroids she kept in a box,
Surrounded by people, all worried and lost.

Gypsy and I would play in the backyard,
She had red hair and a golden heart.

We filled endless bags with her crosses and bibles,
All smoking cigarettes and talking for a while.

They took her away in a hearse,
As I rummaged through all the junk in her purse,
Letters and donations to be sent out to churches,
all left without stamps, empty and worthless.

I called her gypsy because she was as free as the wind,
The crazy make-up lady who would laugh to no end.

Nobody wanted answers as to why she died,
She was laid to rest on Christmas Eve, the closest to Jesus she'd ever been in her life.

I hope now gypsy is finally alright.

There came a point when the cancer spread to your brain,
A point in time where you couldn't even yell out in pain.

When the clicker was a telephone,
And you sat in a hospital bed all alone.
Not noticing the crowds of friends coming to say their goodbyes.

Some to laugh and some to cry.

All talking to a woman they used to know but now sits silent,
Minutes passing and closer to dying.

I was then only in my adolescence.
Sixteen.
cruel and mean.

I waited for the crowd to dissipate,
Standing in the doorway,
thinking of what to say.

To the mother whom I said I hate,
Yelled and fought and ran away.

I lied next to you,
covered in confusion as to what to say,
What to do?
"I'm sorry for every bad thing I've ever said and done"
"You really are the best, mom"

Thinking it was too late and you didn't understand,
I went to leave but you raised your hand.

Caressing my arm as we lie in silence together,
A moment that resonates in my soul forever.

The moment my thoughts were free,
The moment I made my peace,
The moment you made the decision to leave.

The rotting walls,
The warped floors,
The cracked wood that makes up all of the doors.

Do you remember when this place used to be so bright?
When we still ate dinner at the table most nights?

Blanket forts and puzzle glue,
I always said my best friend was you.
I was your checker queen,
You were my everything.

We took rides to the liquor store,
The smell now will always remind me
Of my childhood.
These types of field trips never ended the way I wished they would,
With your nose pressed against a cut straw in your friends ***** apartment,
Maybe you hoped that I would never remember it.

I used to pray to a God I was too young to believe in that you wouldn't crash the car when you were high on oxy.

Whispering to myself
"Oh god, please."

You would get so close to the cars on the side of the road and I would just keep praying that we would make it home.

Then, after mom died i picked up your bad habits.
I would drink and drive in hopes that I would die.

Id get to close to the cars on the side of the road while praying to a God I still don't believe in that I wouldn't make it home.

But I did.
Every time.

To the rotting walls,
The warped floors,
The cracked wood that makes up all of the doors.

Why is it so hard to remember when this place used to be bright?
I cant even imagine a dinner at the table most nights.