Slowly, her fingers run
under the seal of a yellowed
envelop as if brushing against
his lips as he kissed it shut.

He delicately penned gentle
words, but a thousand
letters aren’t sufficient to prove his
devotion – A thousand miles not

enough to keep them apart. Once
only bound by infatuation and perpetual
poor timing, doomed to perish with
nothing but memories of a midnight

cursing the ticking second hand,
memorizing each embrace. She
refuses to buy into fate, but her’s is
sealed like the envelop in her hands.

Studying each word, running her
fingers over dried ink as if brushing
against his determined hand as he wrote.

your words clung to me
like wet clothes
and tattoos.

i'm trying to forget
what you told me
in the shadow of the day.

you are a creature
unlike all the rest,
still,
there is no one willing
to be your captor.

I'll be on the front lines
Fighting fireflies on a Golf Course
With a butterfly net

Collecting ghosts in mason jar
to plant back on the cemetery
The crows are making nests
in the skull of your family

They accidentally put
the wrong name on yours
And in Latin!
It's ok though, because you're
(were) Are?  a nihilist

The river Nile is the
best stream of consciousness
Known to man and of
Course that's where you drowned
your metaphorical thoughts
While you hung yourself above
a treadmill trying to pretend
you wanted to be a better
man

But you only ran away

The Stonehenge is the front gate
to your home
          It's made from
      billboards and
Pictures of static
When you're dead you
                        Live in White Noise

You're turning my lights
on and off
               as I'm trying to sleep
haunting me in
my over easy eggs
making the yolk run
in words "Miss me?"

And of course I do
But you are as good a my imaginary friend

When I'm walking in the
park with all the scarecrows
you make the dandelions
float, no amount of
wishes is bringing you back

I know boards of wood are
easier to you than the termites
eating the tumor in my brain
          from the insanity you're causing me

So instead I paper mache my
room with love letters from you
that got lost in the mail
because you stole them for me
A banksy bankrupt in original thought

I'm building a tiny forest
             of matches
If I can't sleep I'm joining you

So you pack your bags, hobo
style but with
Picnic baskets and dead leaves
Seancing yourself
With the crystal ***** of my eyes

I lost you in some newspaper ad
about a Home for sale
Does it come with a family?
How is that legal?
But I lost you because I bought the wrong copy and couldn't find that one blurry word that was you saying
Good morning

I lost you at sea
  And in my dreams
      And to your own hands
   And to my own memory

I'm dancing with wolves
Called Alzheimer's
because I'll die
with a disease of age
Instead of house burning, building leaping
Front Page

Then we'll go live in abandoned
amusement parks with creaky
Ferris wheels turning
Like you in your grave
And me with the Cycle of Life

there are secrets—
in the pocket of my black coat.

you'd rip the ribbons from my braid
and show me how to love
in whispers.
tearing me apart,
only to put me together
and feel accomplished:

like you were the first
to step foot on the moon
or to kiss me.

i love you dearly,
with your olive eyes
and crooked smile.

you weren't very good at love,
and i was very good at lying.

in the shadows of the moonlight,
you kissed me crudely.
(you'd never kissed anyone before.)
you told me you loved me—

and i told you,
lies ridden in the sentence,
that my love was not for you.