kissing you was like swerving into oncoming traffic

i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents

you taught me that the saying "pick your battles" meant not answering when love was at the door

sometimes when i drink whiskey i swear i can hear your voice in the creases of my bedsheets & i sleep on the floor

i still catch myself running my hands over things you touched the most, looking for the echoes of your fingertips

i practice things i'll never say to you

i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everything's already been said" & how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being cliche" you know, i don't miss you like the sun and moon, i do not miss you like tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, i miss you like a chernobyl  swingset misses children

rumor has it that drowning is a lot like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach

for your love of cigarettes, i would have been an ashtray

this halloween i want to dress up as the you when you loved yourself and show up on your doorstep

i never understood what you meant when you said i was an instrument, back when you would cup your hands around my chest and breathe through the holes in my heart, i still wonder if the sounds i made remind you of wind chimes

i never paid much attention to abandoned buildings until i became one

in my dreams all the flowers smell like your perfume

i am the only person who has ever wished for the same snowflake to fall twice

if i could go back, and rewrite the definition of audacity, it would be how when we lost the bet of love, you said "we never shook on it"

i love you, if the feeling is not mutual, please pretend this was a poem

the only apology i want from you, is to have you repeat the names of children we will never have in your parents living room until they *****

we are the same person if you find yourself up at 4am dry heaving promises, or if you are kept awake by the laughter of those who've abandoned you

nobody ever told you that goodbyes taste like the back of stamps

sometimes i'm convinced that the only reason we hug, is so you can check my back for exit wounds

She has soulful dark brown eyes. You can tell she's been crying too
She's just glassy-eyed, almost as if she's not living in this world, just taking up space
Her eyes, they remind me of a twitching Christmas tree light that's about to go out
I keep on seeing this empty sad look in her eyes lately
It's not that look you get when you watch a sad romantic movie
Or when you watch those commercials about the little poor kids in Indonesia
It's that look you get when you've been drained emotionally
And it's starting to show physically
She no longer looks polished
No more buttoned-up shirts and skinny jeans
Just a camo hoodie and some old flared pants
She walks with a slouch that's telling of the sleepless nights she's had
And her lips are almost always moist with the tears she cried at 2 a.m.
She doesn't speak that much anymore
Her mouth is closed eternally to drown out the sound of her sobs
She wears this facade at home but I think her cousin is slowly wearing it off
One simple argument and she'll turn into a hurricane
Sending her harsh winds and torrential rain towards him
He doesn't understand why but someday he will
And she hates being at home. In fact home isn't really home
She glorifies the moment when she gets a chance to leave
That's where her demons are and she doesn't want them following her
I don't really know what's her deal
Maybe if I get to undress her thoughts and peel off her layers, I could understand her problems
I could be like a doctor and diagnose her
And maybe just maybe, I could bring back the twinkling in her eyes.

                                                      k.h