If that will be that, then
breathe it while it lasts.

We could have grabbed
each others' hands and
stretched our existence,
turned time's fabric to
our bed and blanket,

but this is it, as I feel your
sweat and sweet breath I
prepare to feel the repeat
sequence, I repeat it

The empty smile
spreads cheek to
cheek

She's beside me in
splendid silence, I
whisper

my regret over driving
such high speeds, when
I know for a fact, the road
and its changeless dangers
to her saintly, sleeping form.

I'm sleepless.

you've been taking pieces of me away,
one by one, slowly.
you thought i would not notice.

i did.

you took my breath away,
when we first met,
you with your brilliant grin,
you with your expressive eyes
and you with your love for life.

you took my heart away,
when you left,
you with your short clipped tones,
you with your emotionless eyes,
and your with your cold shoulder.

and now you leave me here,
with a hollow emptiness
where my heart used to be.

but perhaps there is nothing
you can leave behind,

for what's a body without a heart?

I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A shelter out of rain,
With ascending and descending friends.

I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.

I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters,
A current winding with no rest.

I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.

I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.

I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.

I think the reason
Broken people
Are always drawn
To other
Broken people
Is that they
See each other's missing pieces
And they're so aware of their own
Missing pieces.
And they think
"Maybe your pieces can go where mine did,
And mine can go where yours did,
And together
We can be almost whole."

But broken people
Aren't very good at being whole
When they've been broken for so long.
They don't know how to be anything
But broken.

So I end up pushing you away.
I push you far, far away from me.
Because even though I need you around,
And I desperately want you with me,
I don't know how to be whole
anymore.
And that's what you do.
You make me whole.

And I push you and push you and push you
But you don't leave.
Even though you have absolutely
Every reason to leave.
Even though no one would question it.
Everyone would understand it.
Most people would be more than supportive of it.

But instead, you stay.

And I don't know if I make you whole,
But I know that sometimes you push me away too.
Not as far.
You never push me away as far as I push you,

But I am always ready to leave.
Because I've already done the sticking-around-when-no-one-wants-me thing.
And I've learned that there's no chasing people.
If they want to leave,
They will leave,
And you cannot ever stop them.

And everyone leaves, sooner or later.

You can't make a person want you
And you can't make a person choose you.

And someone can want you every second of every day,
But if they don't choose you,
It doesn't matter.

That's what I've learned.

So when you push me away from you,
My instinct is to leave.
I've never really had an actual home
Or an actual family,
So leaving isn't actually hard for me.
As much as I want to stay right here,
In your arms forever,
Leaving is easy.
It's natural for me.
I never knew how to stay.
I've always been a run-away kind of person.
Besides, it never takes anyone long to move on from me.
I leave,
They move on,
Their lives are better.

The hard part isn't leaving, for me.
It's forgetting.
Because I don't forget,
I can't move on.

Everyone I've left,
Everyone that has left me,
I remember.
I remember the hurt.
I remember them.

I'm not afraid to leave
When you push me away
Because I know you'll move on quickly
And I know you'll be better off
When I'm gone.

But when I push you away
I'm always so scared you'll go.
Because I don't want to move on,
And I don't want you to think I'll just forget you.
Because I won't.
Because I can't.

And I know it hurts that I'm so quick to leave,
And I know that knowing that it's only because I'm so used to going
Doesn't make it better.

I'm going to try to stay,
Because you stay.
Because I won't ever forget you,
And I don't want you to forget me.

I used to think
That once you love someone--
And I mean really really
Love them,
With every part of you--
I think once you love someone,
Well...
You never really stop.

Close your eyes.

It doesn't hurt at all, I promise.

If you get scared, you can squeeze my hand. I don't mind.

I know it looks bad, but it's okay. It's all okay.

You don't need to be afraid.

I promise.

But when I open my eyes,
I find rather quickly
That there's no one else here.
I was talking to myself.
Reassuring myself.

The room is blank.
Grey.
The light that comes from
The only window
Is dull and grey.
Overcast.

It's the only thing that's comforting here.

It's too quiet. Too empty.
Too hollow.

The silence is deafening.
My chest feels heavy.

If I close my eyes,
For a second,
I can remember another place.
A place with color.
A place with you.

For a second,
I can imagine it.
I can pretend I'm there.

I can almost feel you there,
For a second.

But it doesn't last nearly long enough,
And then you're gone.

The problem is,
This room doesn't exist.
It's a metaphor.

Because the moments in time that I feel (almost) normal,
Where I am (almost) passing for neurotypical,
That's when I see you.
I'm there.
I can almost reach you,
Touch you.
I can almost be like you.
I can almost...
Almost.

I can only ever almost.
And almost has never been enough.

And I can tap my hands against yours,
Or rub my scars,
Or hold my doll closer to me,
Or bounce up and down,
But all the stimming in the world
Won't keep me calm forever
And it won't make me better.

And I just want to be better.
I don't want to be sick.
I'm so sick of being sick.

I've tried accepting it all as part of me.
As it being me.

But I can't.

Because I see the way you look at me.
It's the same way everyone looks at me
When they think I don't notice.
I know that look.
It's the same look that teachers gice their students when they just can't help them with their problem.
The only good thing as that you don't
Use the voice that everyone else does.
I know that voice, too.
It's the same voice people use when talking to a scared animal that might become hostile.

I am not an animal.

I am not a lost cause!

But I see the way you look at me.
I know that look.
Everyone gives me that look,
Once they figure it out.

I am not an animal,
I am not a lost cause.
At least,
That's what I keep trying to tell myself.

But I don't even believe it anymore.

I want to be better.
I want to be better,
But I don't think I can be the better
You want me to be.

I'm sorry for the way that I am;
For all of my flaws, all of my insecurities.
I'm sorry for the way that I am;
The way I gravitate towards you,
the way I light up when I see you.
I'm sorry for the smile that plasters across my face
when you tell a story.
For the way I think about you always,
writing thousands of words to try to describe you.
For how I instantly miss you,
craving your voice,
craving your warmth.
I'm sorry that I constantly sing
the notes of your name.
I wish you could hear the melodies I can create.
I'm sorry for always trying to be happy,
but failing regularly.
I'm sorry for being kind,
caring too much,
and hoping for a better tomorrow.
I'm sorry for being jealous.
For all the times I was too protective,
for the times I watched you cry and didn't grab your hand;
For the long letters I've written you,
the pictures I was too shy to take,
and for losing who you used to be.
I'm sorry for not being enough for you.
For being so dark, such a tortured soul.
For the scars on my wrist,
the imperfection of my body,
the half hearted smile.
For letting myself care too much.
I'm so sorry;
So sorry, for the way that I am.

if you ask me if i'm fine,
i won't lie and i'd say no,
i am not.

if you ask me if i've found someone else
i'd smile and i'd say no,
it's still you.

if you ask me if i still feel the same way,
i'd smile and i'd say yes,
it never changed.

if you ask me a question,
i'd always have an answer that
i've always had stuck in the back of my mind,
and that answer is you.

so please ask me,
because i won't.

ask me please,
ask me if i still love you.

if you would,
i'd say i do.

but even if you won't,
i'd still do.