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Okay, so I tried. And I wasn’t enough. To capture your mind, or heart, or ****, or whatever it is that she captured.

Okay, so I tried. To talk. And you wouldn’t respond. With full sentences. Okay,

Okay, so you miss her. And I ask about it so you tell me. But would you rather stay silent? What do you want? Don’t involve yourself with me. Don’t start this if you don’t wanna do anything but start it.

Finish it, because I can’t. Because I am already in too deep. Because I have felt the end coming many times and waited and waited and waited for it to end but you won’t let it.

Okay, so you don’t care.

Okay, so there is an awkward silence and you laugh harder at some other girls’ joke than you do at mine. Okay, so you are uncomfortable and you get up and you walk away. So you don’t listen to my problems or ask about how I am even though I asked about you. Even though I care. So you started this and you don’t care. So finish it.

Okay, so, you don’t have much of a personality. Okay, so you’re a tough egg to crack. She did. And I won’t. You don’t want me to. You just like starting things. Maybe you don’t know you’re starting them.

So, I don’t understand you like she does, so you don’t even try to connect. Maybe if you gave me answers longer than 2 words I could find out who you are. Maybe, if you just tried. Maybe, if you just ended it and never spoke to me and pretended I didn’t exist, then maybe it would be over. And I would be happy. Not happy.

Okay, so. I love you and I don’t want you to finish it. But I wish it hadn’t started. Because the truth is, it only started for me. So, okay, so.

Okay, so you miss her and as I sit across the table from you and search for the words to make you feel at home you scowl and remember her smile and body and mind. Okay, okay, okay. So I’m delusional.

So, I tell you about how I'm lonely and you do not respond. I say I feel sad and you remain indifferent. So, you don't wanna hear problems that aren't hers because only she is real to you, I guess, emotionally. And other girls who aren't her, are real to you, physically. And I guess, so, I guess I am neither.

A friend? I want to end it. That isn't what I wanted.

Okay, so I guess I have to end it, since you have nothing to end. Okay, so. This is me ending it.

Okay, so...

It will never be over for me.
Is it over for you?
****,
I keep forgetting it never began.

Okay.
this only hurts me.
  Aug 2019 impractical thoughts
amanda
some of us
weren’t meant to be happy
some of us
were meant to be poets
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
we hid from our mother in the grocery store,
the smell of fresh produce, plastic packaging,
filled our senses
we pretended to be spies
a part of the mob,
giving ourselves a purpose.
broken in disguise

we stood in the corner when we were bad
noses pressed to the wall,
just 30 more minutes
we whispered to each other
I chipped the paint and
imagined a world where I was
beautiful.

at the age of seven I felt
embraced by the world because
it was willing to play with us,
unlike the other kids.
our driveway was steep and
we pretended it was a rollercoaster
bikes flew down the chalk-covered
asphalt and we finally felt alive.

tamara and I
played dress up and
moved the carpets in the basement
so we could rollerskate.
we fought when she didn't want to watch the same show as me.
we cried when we missed our father.
we trembled when we heard glass shattering.
we laughed when we could guess the next line of the movie.
we packed up our toys, my favorite stuffed animal, our Harry Potter box set, our matching bedding, the winter clothes he bought us
we moved between worlds

in one we were young, innocent, and happy
in the other we had already experienced enough suffering for a lifetime
in one we could pretend to be spies
in the other there was no fantasy that would erase the painful truth

tamara and I still live in these worlds,
parallel universes.
17 and 19
and we still spend
nights convincing ourselves
we are happy.
that we can be normal,
and touch men
without fearing they will
make us bleed.

tamara and I are not kids anymore.
except now
we are even worse at pretending.
i love you, tammy.
you laugh and you smile
and say my name to be polite
and i wish i could tell you my heart aches
when i stand within a mile.

you're not amazed by the way that i move;
you don't feel rebirthed when i walk in the room;
you laugh with me like i'm a friend from back home
you'd never cancel plans when i tell you i'm alone

i don't know how much harder i could've tried
the hardest part is putting my fears aside
and telling you i hate that we don't have much time
(3 more weeks to be precise)

and it wasn't enough to tell you i don't have a ride home
or to ask about your studies and whether you drove
i didn't want casual chit chat; you said you were tired
don't you think i am too?
i ran miles and miles and miles

the lack of love leaves me nostalgic
for the tears i used to cry
these days it's far too easy for me to move on
but first, i'll miss you for a while.
seemingly,
if its not sad its not true.
the last thing i was sure of was loving you,
(now, maybe that's the last thing I'll ever do)

I wanna hang myself in the tree on your
beautifully gardened front lawn,
and maybe you'll be watching from the windows.
When my neck snaps,
I hope you remember the words that
you said, words I was told wouldn't hurt me.
  May 2018 impractical thoughts
chris
the trees did not complain
the day we carved our initials
into their calloused skin

and isn't it sad that something
so beautiful would put up with
that pain for a love that
would not last?
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