They never had and I don't think they could ever again. It's not just the parts of my body that I use to tread on, to continue on foot when the rest of me can't catch up. Everything has outgrown such commodities; my legs, my hands, my neck and head. I got taller with a straighter back and a chin raised high to show that no fear runs through these thriving veins - a fear that is nonesuch to the person that rises with the waves of orange and pink, that pour onto the wide unknown above but is restless when the night spills black ink with specks of white. The clothes on my back have ripped at the seams with a tear so loud and big, the hands that once cared couldn't sew it back together. The silver needle with the sharp tip, pricked at their hungry, outstretched hands saying, "Don't touch because the wounds you left are deep enough". This head so full yet so empty. These old shoes don't fit like they used to because they have been tugged on, the heels crushed by another, and their once tied laces frayed with the tip split open like a mouth with no tongue.

I cannot give you more when I have nothing of my worth that I want to lose.

the next time
you try to rub salt
in my wounds

i'll smile at you
with apathy
because

i've already
hit rock bottom
and made it
back home.

you and i
we'll move on
and forget all of this.

and maybe we'll even
find whatever it was that
we were looking for elsewhere.

and perhaps
we'll understand
why it ended the way it did.

but what we had
was precious and it'll
always exist somewhere.

in dying leaves and
the silences we shared
and maybe, the moon too.

no matter where i look my eyes seem to find you
in the crowd of many
amongst the plenty
you are there and so am i
but the space between is unsurprisingly wide
i don’t want to let the words that once thrived
within
begin
and continue

so stop your looking
because i'm trying not to find you
and i know you aren't trying to find me
stop your staring
your eyes draw in more than they should
and mine push away what they can't bare

because i found myself thinking about you too much

not a lot but too much
in the context
of too much too full
too little too soon
i found myself thinking about you too much
and i don't know what to do

i’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon,
skipped breakfast and lunch,
days that fade slowly and end with
****** cut-out holes in eyelids because
the second i close them and it all goes black,
every moment with you comes back
played on fast-forward, the memories moving so quickly
that both our faces are blurred
and it feels like everything i’ve ever felt for you
is overflowing the tub, filling the washroom with
suds that take forever to melt

i’ve given up on those days.

i’ve traded them for ones that begin with
sunrises instead of sunsets,
days that are spent falling forward
instead of trying to chase the past, and i don’t
look back and see something broken, or
something that was better off left unopened

i look back and see our bodies so close together
that you can’t tell where yours begins and mine ends,
i see my heart that grew twenty-three times its size,
i see you and me wrapped up in something that
i didn’t know existed outside of blurry 35 mm
and overdue and falling-apart library books
that sit on the nightstands of middle-aged women
who are bored with their lives

and i’m just so happy i got to love you at all.

but i’ve folded up all the days spent with you
and taped them in the messy pages of my journal
and now i’m running into the sun,
running away from every lie that’s trying to
wedge its way in between my ribs,
running in the opposite direction of words like "regret"
and any feeling that insists that none of it was worth it

because all of it was worth it.

every moment we were together pumps
through my veins, and it will always be there;
it will be there when we’ve both graduated,
when you move out west,
when you kiss your family goodnight,
when you sit in your backyard with tears
in your eyes because you’ve lived a life
you are proud of

it will be there when i finally make it to new york city,
when i kiss someone who isn’t you,
when i find the answers you inspired me to search for,
when i sit on my rooftop with tears on my cheeks
because i’ve lived a life fuller than i could’ve ever imagined

and you and i will live these lives apart,
we’ll move on and forget what it felt like
to wake up beside one another;
we’ll find what we’re looking for elsewhere
and we’ll understand why this all had to happen the way that it did

but what we had will always exist somewhere,
in rotting apples and old mail and unplayed mix CDs,
in mosaics that line the city streets, in sirens and
red and white flashing lights that shine through
your window while you are asleep

you and i were magic,
we always will be.