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Z Sep 2022
fall feels like our expired summer
leaves would burst with green as i drove to your house
the sun rays would beat down on us
now the leaves have turned sour, they wither and fall
the sun rays barely make it through the clouds
they warm my cheeks for a dull moment
i miss you
Z Sep 2022
the thought of you
it weighs heavy the further we drift
i've done well to ignore it
yesterday i walked home without headphones
i notice the group in front
my eyes wander to the tall red headed boy
his face is chubby and his hair bounces with his step
he is shy and walks kind of like you did
if i could remember

though i know you're back home
and you've long lost your baby weight
somehow i can't help but quicken my step
he stays in eye sight as we walk through the park
maybe tonight, i'll let my mind indulge for a second more
Z Sep 2022
you went away, your playlist did not
without you, it comforted me in the night
2 days it took you to pick these songs
i hold them close in fear that they might slip away too

2 days changed the next 2 years without you
analyzing every song, hearing your voice through their's
each artist's discography unlocked a new part of you to discover
the lengths i go to feel connected to him
grasping at straws
a one-sided closeness created by music

he showed me all of my favourite artists
how do i rid myself of the one that lingers in each verse
haunting the chorus of every song
he is music

why did i put myself here
how did i let it get this bad
i never even knew him
Z Mar 2020
carving you out in a hollow hallway
eyes glisten until I run dry
I will rid myself of you if it means
I must carve you out myself
with a bent and broken Swiss Army knife
I will spare you no mercy when I rip you piece by piece out through my mouth and into my eyes
And I will stop at nothing until you are gone
And I am the shell of who I once was
Z Jul 2019
in the cut in his high
i find my minor chord
that transitional backdrop
to renew a world filled with dust and broken glass

a small broom sitting crookedly in a crowded corner
an invitation burned at the sides
and an apology in a glistened paper package

he's leaving again
and i've been wondering the fatality of soiling and regrowth
seems i've lost count but never faith or burning sweetness
don't know what brought me here, familiarity and ringing echos
is it a chain or written in stone
is settling for less what he wants me to do
Z Feb 2019
my spine is scraped, held together for too long
his step is languid, and flows with the air

another day another crack
tile bruises my elbows

it's been three months
his breath runs my
crunching of orange and red leaves
i can't stop thinking of summer
written in august, likely foreshadowing of what was to come
Z Feb 2019
He's gotten used to my crying
Folds my gloves
Entertains my hand
Nothing to offer but a fading persona

White emblems to remind me
I'll lose my right to be alone
Every day worn down by the next
Pushing pushing
What will I set aside?
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