me from a year ago looks at me from a minute ago
with her stupid
*******
hormones
and her stupid
*******
youth.

benjamin button is real but only in the form of knowledge

this is the world
and i'm supposed to exist in it
today
and i am not prepared
at all.

your voice is *** i had forgotten how
its the lips do make by their parting
the jerking of nerves to teem upon
the single tingling of its seamless singing.

(all rasped with **** and an after the show smoke i hate the smell but love the flavor of when it stops being near to farness and with imminent instantaneous kissing becomes

and all of my demons?
they look just
like
you.

For all the beauty in
the skies that
hypnotize me,
for ever sunset
and every sunrise
that I've ever seen,
in ever place
I've ever been,
you are the ground
that keeps me stable.
You are the gravity
that keeps me from
flying.

i love how it feels to be underneath you.

i send you messages like these because i
know you're at dinner with your friends,
know you're out in public.

we're miles away, but i wanted to
make my presence known.
i wanted to make an impression on you
and make you want me there
when i wasn't invited.

i want to leave you hanging by the end of the night.
i want to start to make it hurt for you.
i want you to realize what is happening and reach
out for more, realize i'm not just smoke.
i am real and i can be lost.

and even if it didn't make you want me
like i intended for it to do,
at the very least you thought of me
for a moment like a front-page headline.

i tried to write an open letter to your new girlfriend. i sat for hours, writing draft after draft, typing over backspace after backspace, all in vain. i realized at the end of it, i had no words for her. i had no wistful compliments, or tips dipped in nostalgia, or even warnings -- i realized none of those are mine to give. i remembered that there have been at least a dozen girls between me and her; you are no longer mine to giveaway. i am no longer the ex. i was never really the ex, but i am no longer the anything. i'm a girl you used to know. years ago. a girl you'll come across in the yearbook, decades from now, and blink -- was that really her name? you'll swear to yourself that it was more beautiful, back when you moaned it in my ear. you'll show me to your kids, or even your wife, laughing and saying there's my high school . . . you'll pause and stick-in the word 'girlfriend' because it's the closest thing that fits, but we both know better. i was never your girlfriend, i was just your ******* girl.

there is no fondness to this story. there is nothing for you to tell your kids, unless you're ready to ******* jade them; there's the girl who starved for me in year nine, there's the girl who didn't say she loved me until it was over, there's the girl who couldn't function with or without me.

there's your girl. one of your girls. a notch in your belt. now that i think about it, maybe you'll just flip past me in the yearbook. and maybe, if we ever see each other again, all you'll do is blink.