I know the back of your
Hand like the back
Of my
Hand.

~

IT'S 3:58 IN THE MORNING.
AND GOD, I HATE HOW MUCH I MISS YOU.

ACTUALLY, NO.
I LIE.

I HATE HOW MUCH YOU DON'T DESERVE IT.

my anger has manifested
into sore throats, the perpetual
swallow, even while you sleep--
that no saliva, cotton ball in your
chest soaking up the living, leaving
me high and dry, contemplating
the meaning of every idiom,
every moment, every customer
that orders five 20oz mochas
and doesn't leave a single
tip but works on the block
and complains about local
business.

i stop dead in my tracks
when referring to their
house, because it doesn't
seem like mine anymore
but I'm confused as to
what really is a home
in the truest sense of
the thing because
I feel like a molecule
in a widening bubble
the farthest from claustrophobia
that I've ever been, there's nobody
that I want to see, and everywhere
I want to go, but like a machine I
seem to require the right environment
to function, so i'm canceling all my plans
ripping excuses out of the cookbook
missing the sun when it's right outside
my window, sometimes right above my
head--and this rug beneath my feet feels
more like the only safe place in Canon
everything else doesn't belong, everything
else doesn't          fit eve
                                        rything
else can't           be in the s a me room as  



me.

I'M
JUST
ANOTHER
BIRD
THAT
DIED
-
TRYING
TO
FLY
INTO
YOUR
BEDROOM
WINDOW.

I'm tired of asking you to kiss me.

I'm tired of asking you to kiss me,
with this impatience that sustains
me, an appetite for romance that
is more fragile than the feelings
I barely have for you, after all,
chasing a single spark is hopeless
because they're lost as quickly as
they leave the flame. When was the
last time something felt right?
When something felt right?
The last time something felt
complete because it had run
f  u  l  l   c  i  r  c  l  e, when I was
comfortable being touched
or touching     I hardly remember
a time before this where something
wasn't rushed because i am a habitual
rusher, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.