but thinking about how
happy you make me makes me
so sad, and full of self-pity
  for ever having lived without you

sometimes my fingers find spots
on your skin that they like to
gently scratch and I wonder,
if I gently, sweetly stroked one spot
for an infinite amount of time,
would I eventually wear into a
vital ***** and bleed you out?
   because a gentle wave, over
   time, turns mountains
   into fractions

and I guess I'd probably lose my finger first
but still, I wonder.

I do know one thing though, I know
that one day we will miss this twin bed
  and we complain
but I have found that it is
my favorite way to sleep
and the only way to keep
at bay the flood of aloneness
that presses against my chest every day

     I should try to give myself some credit.

I am trying to give myself some credit,
but then there's you.

I was homesick until I remembered
how toxic this place was.

I am a decaying organism,
and I am dying in your arms.
      every time you touch me
     another couple skin cells fall,
     and every time we kiss,
      I lose a bit of DNA

    so **** any way of living that isn't dying.

I was homesick until I realized
I had found a better one,
and now
I'm only sick for you.

Recently, I've started to wash
my sheets less often
   and maybe its because the nights
   have gotten cooler
   and less sweaty
but also,
I think I'm getting attached
to the way my bed smells like you

I have the blues again and you asked
if you could **** them out
through my mouth
but I like you too much to let you taste them

and I'm ******* tired of being tired all the time
but I've never been
more motivated to keep breathing
   than with you sleeping beside me,
   just close enough that your fingers
   brush my stomach
     when it expands with air
        and your breath
in mine, weaving simple harmonies

and I don't need you,
because I would never let myself
depend on a garden I can't water alone
but the flowers you planted
in my eyelids
are so ******* beautiful
and I'd really like to see the world the way you do.

I can't quite describe the scent
but
it makes this little
  concrete room
feel almost like a place
  I could call home

sometimes I think that if I
pry open your ribcage
and look inside,
I'll find silver and flower petals and things
that glitter and dance in the rain

but I always (usually) remember
that you are human and you are
filled with blood
and guts
and bones
and bacteria
and all the gritty bits that
  fill me too and we are the same

except
that we're so not the same at all
because when you look up on a cloudy night,
you can see all the stars you know to be hidden
while I can see only darkness

  the worst part
  about happiness
is knowing what comes next.

   he walked
in on me crying and he told me
that he didn't want to leave me like this
    "but you will," I said,
          and I was right.

I walk with the weight of the world
cascading from my shoulder blades and leaving
bruises up and down my spine

I walk with the ghost of you
dangling from my knees and kissing
purple into all the places no one sees

  I told you today
the things it has taken me eight months to formulate
       and it's probably just wishful thinking,
       but I am feeling the spaces between my
       vertebrae getting a little less heavy
(or as some would say, a little lighter

)I miss you,
but only in parts.
   I miss the part of you that loved me.
      I don't miss the part of you that spent our last two months together pushing me away.
      I don't miss the part of you that doesn't miss me.
  
I miss the part of you that glows.

I've always been jealous of leaves

because they have the luxury of dying
with the promise of being reborn
in a few months' time
even brighter and more
beautiful than before

    sometimes I want to die
but death is such a big commitment and
I've never been a fan
of permanence

I miss you
but
not in the a-piece-of-me-is-missing-when-you're-gone
kind of way
I miss you in the
I'm-okay-with-being-alone-but-I-like-it-better-when-you're-ar­ound
kind of way and I think that
that is a pretty healthy way to feel

It took me a very long time
to realize that I was whole

    and I'm not so scared of winter anymore

don't ask me what I'm doing
because I have no idea
  but its like
  
I could sit with you forever and
never have to say anything
   because just knowing
   that there are words
buzzing around your head at a million miles per second
   and there is blood
pumping through your veins, soft and sweet as sugar
   and there are all
the things you are glowing
       beneath the weight of all
           the things you want to be and
just knowing that you exist

is enough to make the world stop-

so don't ask me because
I don't know what I'm doing
   all I know
is that I really, really like
being around you

and I think that's kind of wonderful