i still feel your lips on mine
and although it's been several months
time does not heal everything

i fall asleep with my phone in my hand

i thought i was kissing you goodnight
and if i had known it was goodbye

i would have kissed you a little longer

They call me the Ice Queen.
My heart embedded in a sheet of arctic glass.
Impenetrable and safe in the confines of it’s frosted walls.

Snowflakes hit my cheeks as if laughing about my frozen state,
“you’re smart never to fall in love” they whisper as they flutter.

The words sting as fresh as frostbite on my toes.

Not being able to love is no summer paradise.
It’s a curse as raw as winter,
As unwanted as an avalanche,
A severe storm.

A fear ruling my body.
Robbing me of all warmth,
As I sit freezing,
Icicles where tears would normally form.

Constantly traveling on snow capped mountains,
I ask myself,
Whether love is the fool or I for not loving?

Once again the wind picks up,
As the childhood memories hail down as reasons
Why I stay in this state of white wasteland fill my mind...

Frigid reminders of a mother who kept re-marrying,
and a father who could never fully commit to a woman despite the chilling loneliness.

No sculpted example of Love carved into my frosty mind.

Remaining as uncertain of what Love even means,
As if my mind were slipping on black ice,
I plunge back into the safety of snowfalls,
Scared of what it means to be anything but numb.

But hope is an odd thing.

Hope to one day feel the glacier surrounding my caged heart to melt.
Hope for the goosebumps to stop tickling my arms.
Hope for the ice to one day thaw as I make my escape from

My never-ending Ice Age.

time flows slowest
around galactic centers and our worst moments
black holes and dying parents
foul, putrid and humid in
acts of betrayal and cowardice
pooling around loss like van gogh’s whorly stars snickering
voyeuristic time crept in at my point of least courage
subatomic tabloid photographers flashbulbs cracking
when I broke your heart one january afternoon
and there was enough time gathered for me
to store all the details of the scene
the way your shoulders slumped and the
straps of your tank top slid a little to the sides
how you looked up and to the left hoping the oak tree out the window
would grow a mouth and explain my sudden departure
if only you could see it through tears coalescing
like soap bubbles summoned between thumb and forefinger in childhood baths
“I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” you said
and it took me years of vanity to understand you’d known;
my accumulated guilt and sadness had not been subtle

i named my sin at an awkward dinner out
millennia after a stellar collapse in a one bedroom apartment
where I lied and told you it was me
not you but it was you
still burn inside me cold
when I’m alone
warm on days I know I saved our children
from the sad gravity of loveless parents
silently begging of them greatness
to validate a vacuum-empty marriage born of
supposed-to and should in the absence
of desire or at least the resignation
of married friends or Jovian planets unignited

maybe time cups our worst memories before us
in greedy luminescent starflesh hands woven of personal apocalypses
laughing outright when the memory burns away
in solar flare fingers
warps in the distorted fabric of how
we edit and redact those moments to survive sane
and we panic realizing
after breaking or being broken
we have remade ourselves entirely of
shame and misery and misfit parts
devoid of structure beyond weeping
brittle bones of future selves
stolen or relinquished  

or maybe time holds these memories for us immature
baby skull soft
too delicate to be picked through with angry desperate hands
while distance and growth or
maybe just forced perspective
lets the memory or
us harden into something we can pluck
from its hands lifetimes later and lazily
browse like any other casual catastrophe

i sit here and i wonder what it is about you that draws me in
the world looks at you as a failure
one who couldnt survive against the odds
but the only answer i have been able to come up with for the burning passion i have for you is that its simply an obsession
a dark obsession that i cant seem to let go of but yet is hard for me to completely hold on to

I try my best to let go of you and let you live life how you choose
but the thought of living life more like existing without you is a nightmare
One i choose not to meet for as long as i can fight it
But soon time will be no longer present
And i will have to say goodbye
The last goodbye
the one i fear the most

I have always hoped this day would never come
But i know that it surely will
And as you will go on living not a tear to shed
I will be left broken and unwhole drowning in my tears and running from my fears
But the difference now will be that i will no longer have you to run to for comfort and some peace of mind
Just existing living off of instinct and hoping tomorrow will never come

Covered with your arms,
I feel your pulses-
One of your heart, one of your soul.
As they rush through you
I too am filled.

Safety, warmth,
A vise grip, but without pain.
Tightly wound, but never tense.

In fact, melted
A molten creation
In which we are just are.

That is not blood in our veins
But the ichor of the gods.
You are my ambrosia
And as I devour you
I will be strong forever.

Summer burns out, becomes fall
And you are still here.

I want to watch fall fall with you
See the cedar trees turn to pollen
And the sun cool to a new amber.

Winter will wither,
And I will want you with me.
Warm me in the cold, shield me from the wind
I will do both for you.
The year will change,
And so will we.

And when spring springs no more
And we shed our safety nets
I hope you will stay.
I will stay.

The changes will come.
I want to watch you change.
I want to watch the world evolve.
I want you to see me evolve.