it never felt good to be without you
it still doesn't feel good
and i don't know who you are now
but i imagine this version of you is much better
than the version that fell in love with me

Had I know that yesterday
Was the last time
I’d have the chance to hold your hand
I’d never let go
I’d squeeze your carpal bones
So close that they’d snap
Built pressure bursting blood from your fingertips
Seeping onto my own skin
A subtly violent fusion
That would still hurt less
Than you walking away.

Told to be someone else
All I wanted was to be me
Did a job and ******* over with my pay
Never advancing any way
She claimed to love
but there was someone else
Promising words not honored
Full of broken promises
Do this do that but it went no where
Should've done it or could've done it
Of course it didn't get done
Fake friends bad mouthing
Call them on it they deny and lie
Tired of all the short comings
Short end of the stick
Practiced and worked hard
pulled from the project
Given to the wrong person
Instead of who deserved it the most

I’ll never fully understand the time
you told me
you were proud of me
and even less
the reason why
you didn’t give me a reason why

I’ll never know whether
your words
begin on your lips
or if they slyly slip
out from someplace called
your heart

I’ve never seen your heart

And as bad as I was at
dissecting
in high school biology
I find myself
digging under your skin
to try and reach
your ribcage

I want to know
how you hold yourself
together

a work of fiction left to the shelves,
i would read us every day.
i would memorize the chapters,
i would cherish every page.
if we were truly just a story,
i could never set us down.
i would respect our safety,
just like other proper nouns.
if we were truly just a story,
i could even make believe,
that you and i,
we are alive,
and this, reality.

Little things I love about you; the way you say "don't go".
Or when your eyes settle on me like a fresh blanket of snow.
That goofy grin I adore that swallows most of your face,
is the same pair of lips that I wish my kisses traced.
The way you hold a conversation is how you hold a bird;
steady, calm, and careful.
I cling to every word.
I was never given a title,
I stopped keeping score.
But for the record, let it show
that I was always yours.