It’s funny how a memory works
I was thinking today about how I usually don’t remember exact days
For example, Christmas
I remember getting excited and I remember waking up
and looking under the tree for the outline of that typewriter
I begged my parents for
but I can’t remember what day of the week it was,
not even from this year
I think to the night we spent together though;
and I know that it was a Saturday
I was supposed to be at my friend’s house
but she cancelled on me
I would learn later that fate works in mysterious ways
even though I was mad at her at first
You texted me and asked me to get coffee
It was four in the morning
We talked until eight about nothing
but we also talked about everything
I guess it was Sunday since it was the morning
I guess I could say I spent the whole weekend with you
but I know that it was only four hours;
still the most prominent four hours of my seventeen years
I remember being in the coffee shop,
and the song “Edge of Seventeen” came on
I thought it was a weird coincidence because
I was on the edge of seventeen and you were on the edge of twenty
and we were both on the edge of falling in love
We talked about dreams, and I told you that I don’t like to sleep
because I have nightmares and I forget what reality is when I wake up
You stared into my eyes and I felt a tug in my chest
Your eyes whispered to mine that they understood
I don’t think we were even speaking in English
we were speaking in smiles and nervous twitchy body language
I told you that I found you intimidating
you laughed and told me you were sorry
I told you not to apologize, I just thought you were so cool
“you’re cool too” you said with a smile
I just laughed and looked at my coffee mug
I get nervous with compliments
We went out for a cigarette and I had trouble lighting mine
because I was so enticed by the way the smoke floated
so effortlessly out of your mouth
I remember thinking that if I was the smoke in your lungs
I wouldn’t fight to come out, I’d stay warm beside your heart
I told you that I needed to get home
before my parents noticed I was gone
You walked me home and the whole time I was praying to a God
that I don’t believe in that you would kiss me goodnight
But you didn’t
We didn’t talk again after that night and
I know now not to fall in love with the
twenty year old little boy
who still wants to grow up and be a poet
and who stares at you while he sings

since i decided that the chain was too short
and the anchor i had attached myself to
was pulling me under

it's been Three Months since I've sharply inhaled and
let go of the rope
and stood slack-jawed
and in awe
at the calm with which you watched it suddenly go limp in your relaxed palms,
and then shrugged,
and retreated.

Three Months since I've turned my head toward the horizon
and rubbed the tension of staring at a backward-moving object
from my weary neck.

Three Months of my infatuation worming its way back into more isolated parts of my mind,
and festering in my body,
becoming quiet--
like the absence of a laugh track
while the film keeps playing.

And I feel like I am still holding my breath.
It's different now because I finally see the pattern.
Breathe easily,
       breathe excitedly,
gasp,
hold your breath,
                  feel it abruptly leave your body as you deflate
find your breath again,
                  have it stolen from you once more

The question is: what will lure my lungs back into blissful submission again? And how much time am I left with to enjoy my returned sanity?

And if you came back,
I think it would feel like a falling dream.
I think I am in the falling dream.
I am grasping and flailing and fearing the crash,
everything becoming a quickening blur of
irrational analysis and false epiphanies,
an asymptote approaching demise...
until
i wake up
(and realize that I never really was falling).

Only to have the ground snatched from under my feet once again
but instead of down, I will go up.
(and then down again)
I wish I wasn't familiar with this pattern.

i am yours
and my thighs are yours to separate and
i want you to make a home between them,
breaking in the walls where you deem it necessary
and insulating cold rooms with your own self,
and i want to warm you, too but i don't know how and i fear failure,
I know I speak like a psychologist and that my glare draws crevices in your self-assurance,
but right now this isn't the Me you know

*This is the truth that I will not state explicitly, but will imply through shaky exhales and involuntary lapses in vocal function, with my fingers limp yet imperceptibly begging for you, and my lack of defense when your authoritative hands do what they do.

I kept oscillating;
in and out of love,
in and out of emotions,
between the familiar realm of raunchy young adult literature and
the new, slightly uncomfortable realm of raunchy young adult life.
I oscillated between dispositions;
between pensive and restless,
***** and
not remembering what kissing feels like,
between the doldrums of despair and the
weightlessness of bliss.
My center of gravity oscillated, too-
from my head to my heart to
my thighs
to the cavernous void in my amygdala that was once abuzz with stupid chemicals brought out by the hysterics of infatuation

i don't want the shape of your name to remind me of
*** and
i don't want my mind to flash red at the notion of your existence
and i don't want to yearn for your embrace
and i don't want to care about how you're doing at your university
and i don't want to wrinkle my forehead at the mere idea of you
seducing someone who isn't me
and i deny the existence of the translucent tether that keeps me bound to you,
only reminding me
when i try to run elsewhere.

Let me run
let me fly
i don't want to love you anymore

I sit and wait for you.
I remember the talks, the food fights, the break downs in which I never took you seriously. The accidental alcohol and the survival that we did.

You, so confident, so you.

I felt underserving of your coolness, of your friendship. But I loved every moment.
You may have mocked, but I never felt like you truly cared about my red beret and just said to take it off for forms sake,

after all, we were only 12 or so.

Shows, and 4 hour laughter fits. Wal mart on roller skates.

Through our entire lives, I felt blessed to be your friend. And I never wanted to put you into a box to be close to you. No labels, just true, honest, just being who we were


I have never thought any girl was good enough for you.



We had to grow up sometime, but I'm no good at growing any way but wider.
And I'm not going to force you or pressure you to take my calls, or talk to me. I haven't done anything wrong that I know of so our non-communication is more of a i'm-busy-youre-busy type of thing.

Late at night I miss your voice.

This is just a note, dropping a line, wrote late at night with burning cigarette, to let you know that I'm waiting always to hear your voice. Some people claim that boys and girls can't be friends because there is that base ****** attraction.

I think they are wrong but then again, you're not a boy and I'm not a girl.

These things I pray for you,
happiness
joy
a passion that leaves your breathless
a purpose
resolution
and love

The breeze greeted my face,
Though I rather it be him,
With a gentle touch.

He left me alone
Without a proper goodbye
Left me all alone.

A memory played
In my aching shattered heart
This memory played:

“I mustn’t do this”
But his body replied “Yes”
And we shared a kiss.

My hands on his face
And his on mine. We lost track
Of time as we kissed.

“I mustn’t do this”
But his heart and soul
Replied differently.

His shirt laid on the
Floor. Mine came right after his.
On the bed we kissed.

My fingers traveled,
His fingers traveled also.
Locking together.

Night fell upon us,
And we danced the night away.
Tangling the sheets.

Many days we spent
Holding onto each other.
During the summer.

Many nights we spent,
Finding places that sent chills
Throughout our bodies.

“I love you” He said
On that starry summer night.
“I love you” but then

He left me alone.
Without a proper good bye
Left me all alone.

Why? Was he afraid?
Afraid of what this could mean?
Afraid of this love?

His whispered words still
Linger inside my scarred soul.
Words that hurt my heart.

A blaze burning up
Any oxygen in me,
Taking it from me

Sadness replaces
All that was inside of me
Replaces him

Every memory
Every thought of him
Was fed to fire

I am left shattered,
With nothing besides what was
And what could have been.

He left me, left me
Without a proper goodbye
Left me all alone.