You asked me what it was I ever saw in him,
Over half eaten lunch and cups stained with coffee
And I said I saw everything in him that I couldn’t see in me.
I saw life
And excitement
And beauty.
You told me I deserved better,
That you’d only ever come to our wedding for the free cake.
And the alcohol,
For the company of me but not my husband.
I told you not to worry.
He will always be my unlawful better half.

i want to quit smoking
but i still need a new excuse
to be able to walk away
from a conversation
go outside
stare
into the world
and be like
i found my escape

one day
i won't be able to smoke cigarettes
and they'll offer me some
and i'll say
hey i wish i couuld
but the doctor says no
otherwise i'll die
and that'll be the only way
that i can ever walk away
and not feel like
i still want to hit it
let that soft delicious white piece of candy
go into my mouth
and blow out
mmmmmmmm
cigarettes
so good
such a long name
all of those syllables
just to say something so simple
why not
death
the greatest gift of all
little mini sticks
of death
little mini sticks
of things that are amazing
little mini tubular gifts
like donut sticks

I want to leave 100 post-it notes in the glove compartment of your car.
One.
I loved your smile first. That toothy grin, stretching lips wider than life, that wouldn’t stop talking. Fancy dress parties make you happy. High on sugar. High on life.
Seven.
I introduced you to some friends and they had highlighter pens at the ready to welcome you into the group. You laughed.
Sixteen.
You gave me your number but you didn’t realize those were the digits to unlock my soul too.
Twenty four.
My parents pick you up and you wear a jacket brighter than the sun and it makes me smile like the rays of summer. We go to the city.
Twenty nine.
She makes a fool out of me. I’m sorry she embarrassed you by telling you how I felt. It was not her place. I cried a lot that night. But your text was lovely and allowed me to sleep.
Thirty six.
I had given up on you but you were at the party and we took smiling pictures together and we made tea at two in the morning while they were all out of it. I
Thirty eight.
Think
Forty Three.
I
Forty Seven.
Love
Fifty.
You
Fifty five.
You are too much want I want and not enough of what I need.
Sixty two.
I ******* hate you.
Sixty three.
I lie to protect myself.
Seventy one.
You are drunk but I find the courage to talk about it. You tell me we are good friends. We hug.
Seventy seven.
You are not high on sugar anymore. E-E-Enough. Your childhood is over. You are a man.
Eighty three.
We go to the gallery and sit close on the tube. I want to kiss you.
Eighty eight.
You break the shower curtain so I shut the door on us and we try to fix it but you’re too out of it. You hit your head and laugh harder than I’ve ever heard you laugh before. We sit in the bathtub, legs hanging over. Hung-over.
Ninety.
We walk on damp grass and you talk about how weird it is to not see your parents at the dinner table together anymore. You can’t understand why it didn’t work.
Ninety one.
We drive back in your car, in the rain. Music plays. I want to hold your hand.
Ninety two.
You won’t ever listen to me. Please listen one day.
Ninety three.
I
Am
Breaking
Why
Can’t
You
See
It
Ninety four.
You’re not who I thought you were but I still care about you.
Ninety five.
I lend you a Stanley knife. When you carve into that paper, I feel the slice on my palms.
Ninety six.
I can’t save you. You wouldn’t let me if I tried.
Ninety seven.
I am merely a spectator watching you from the crowds. I hope you know I am cheering you on.
Ninety eight.
We are the right people
Ninety nine.
At the wrong time
One hundred.
But that is fate.
And nothing and nobody can deny fate. We will both grow old and I will regret not telling you all these things when my eyes were shining and my complexion smooth. But that it something I must live with, not you.
I want to leave 100 post-it notes in the glove compartment of your car so that when it’s late at night and you’ve stopped at some temporary neon shelter for fuel, you’ll reach over the empty passenger seat or your best friend’s knee and you’ll pull the handle to release 100 different reasons why I loved you.