sext: i can still smell your sweat on my pillow. my blankets tangle around me but they should be your legs. come back.

sext: when people have near death experiences, in those minutes before doctors bring them back to life, i imagine they hear your voice. i wonder if you’re why they think they found god.

sext*: you’re still in my dreams but my roommate is worried because i sleep all day, all night, all weekend. i cannot escape the only plane where we both still exist together.

we deleted our tinders as a way to say we like each other
i watched as you held the shaking square and it bounced
side to side trying to avoid being killed
and then you pressed the little x with your finger
and you put the same finger inside me not five minutes later

nothing has to mean anything if you don’t want it to
but i want it to and i’d tell you as much but i’m scared you’d listen
you want me to meet your parents and i’m already ******* up
in my head because i don’t make a good first impression
too quiet
too quiet
too quiet

if there was something before this i have forgotten it
because all i can think about is your hand on my back
you broke my glasses again and you were so upset
but as long as i can see you it’ll be okay
when you cook spaghetti for me in your little kitchen
it makes my heart hurt
but in a good way

the first poem about you
oh boy, i’m nervous
i’m thinking about your hair, strangely
i wish i could touch your sweaty hair

oh boy, i’m nervous
i've been so conditioned to be sad
thinking about your smile almost brings me to tears
i promise i’ll be better

i’ve been so conditioned to be sad
and the only thing i’ve cried about this week
was a movie about a boy’s first love who dies
and i realized that’ll never be me

the only thing i’ve cried about this week
was who i used to be before all of this
love and pain and loss
but now there’s someone new

sext: the last time we kissed was september 28th. do you remember? my lips haven’t touched anyone else’s since you delicately destroyed me.

sext: it’s hard to fathom the distance between us, like my brain cannot believe the sea could be 4,000 miles long, like my heart cannot believe yours would leave.

sext: i wrote an elegy to you in my poetry class. i know you’re not dead, but it kind of feels that way, even though i can still taste you with every cup of tea. i’ve washed that jumper fifty times, but it still smells like you.

sext*: my mother asked how you were and i lied. i told her i hadn’t thought about you in months when i really meant that it’s been months since i could think of anything else.

remember the time you were crying in the break room
because you ruined the lasagna and your boss called you
incompetent.
remember how he held you in his arms and told you
'you're too good for this place anyhow.'
don't remember how you kissed him in his driveway
in the dark
in july.
teeth on teeth,
skin on skin.
he doesn't care.
remember that. remember
that.
his face may follow the golden ratio
and his arms may be strong enough to hold you back
from jumping over the ledge into an
unending
          blissful
                  abyss,
but he doesn't love you.
he will never love you.
how could he love someone with a scarred heart
and shaky hands and a flawed sense of self?
how could he love someone who reduces him
to one hundred and fifty silly words?

if you rip open your scar and throw the stitches on the gravel,
you should expect someone to step on them.
you can't get them back now.
you have to heal all over again.

sext: there’s not enough coffee in the world to replace the feeling you gave me.

sext: by the time you read this, i’ll be too drunk to respond, but you probably won’t text me back anyway.

sext: while i was driving last night, i tried a cigarette to remember how you taste. it burned my lips and i spent the rest of the car ride trying to get the smoke out of my mouth.

sext*: all i’m ever trying to say is that it ******* ***** to feel this way.

i have been searching
for a warm hand to hold
a smile in the dark
all of the things i hear about
and here you are

i am too much to hold but you are trying
i cannot look right into your eyes
because i am scared
but you are patient

you kiss me in the middle of the street at 3 AM
you play the piano and that means something
i am a beginner and this is hard
you are right here next to me and i am quiet
for once i am so quiet