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

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.