Here I am, looking up causes for headaches
at 1 am
when I know it will always come back to you.
My hands found the bottom of the ocean
as I cleaned old movie tickets out of my car today.
I can see your honesty from here.
It took my composure on its way out the door.
I’m not bitter anymore.
I’m just tired.
And I’m tired of being so tired.
I’m sorry you didn’t stay.
I’m sorry that I apologize
for all the times you didn’t.
I keep forgetting these things
are not one-sided,
and so,
I’m sorry I gave you everything
for nothing in return.
You tasted like love,
and I was parched.
Still am.

I’m scared.
I’m scared that one day I’ll be numb,
that quiet fields at 3 am
will no longer remind me of you,
that I won’t notice worn cracks in the sidewalk,
that this smile I wear might actually be real.
I’m scared this heart is empty,
because you took everything when you left it.
I’m scared because you saw every corner of it
and you didn’t run.
I’m scared to love,
because I know how it feels when I’ve lost it.
I’m scared because the words don’t come easy anymore.
Because I can write a poem for each one of the trees
outside my window,
but I can never find the words for you.
They wait patiently in the distance between us,
so I guess these simple ones will have to do.
I’m sorry.
I’m scared that one day the ink inside these veins will dry up,
and the letters won’t arrange themselves the way I want.
But maybe that’s already happened,
because this is how it feels to have all the things to say
and no way to say them.
I’m scared.
I’m scared because these words are all that I have left,
and you’re not here to read them.

I think the gaps in my heart
are slowly shrinking.
I think the wounds are healing.
I think the old man at the back of the bus
will be happy again one day.
The memories will fade where you once were.
The ghosts in my head will go away.
My hollow bones will one day be filled.
I’m not afraid to make mistakes anymore.
You didn’t matter that much to me.
It was easy to let you go.
I don’t miss you anymore.

I measured time in heartbeats and length
by how far your fingers traced on my skin.
Time passed like sultry summer nights
and length was as far as the night stars
that kept us company.
Every second was one I tried to keep safe
instead of cherish.
I wish you’d still wrap your hands around mine
as tight as you do your morning tea.
Because you are my pulmonary veins,
carrying all the broken parts I give and
returning them alive.
Reviving blood as dense as lead,
warming it like the sunrise I used to feel you in.
But now I can only battle eyelids that drop
like anchors near shallow shores;
trying to find the footing your eyes once gave
(still give).
And you might call me a liar,
but it felt like forever to me.
I still measure time in heartbeats
but length by how far
you feel from me.
And right now time moves
as quick as early mornings,
and length is farther than I’d like.

she said i only love the
enticing parts of people,
the same way i highlight
my favorite lines in books
so i’ll have something to
focus on when i decide
to blow the dust off their
spines.
you’re missing everything
and you know it and
you don’t care,
she said.
you’re missing the real
parts. you’re cheating people
out of themselves.

even then, i wanted to
quote her.

I am evening's alpine glow, drawing you out west across the canyon
I am the stranger who comes to you in dreams even though
They say you can only dream of things you know
I am
A brass bowl of your hopes
No more than some faraway notion
I taste of the ocean
I am the beat of your future heart
Barking at the moon, a little fool, a little sad, but
You're the one who dreamt me up on some lonely summer's day
And I am
The grass you laid upon that day
I make you itch
And I am
The stones that bruised your feet as you walked the river's edge
You thought that you were ready
I make you ache
But when this year comes to an end, too
I'll be
The dust you shake from your winter clothes
The spider you find hiding in your sheets
And the scrap of paper you use to set it free
I am the perfect lover you will probably never meet
The secret you could never know or keep
And all you can do is watch for me in your sleep
And all you can do is wait
Or not wait
For me in all the quiet places
And don't forget your dreams in daytime

I swear things will get better.
Even skinned knees and scraped palms
take some time to heal.
And you are chiseled marble,
sculpted into something lovely.
Stronger than diamonds,
and more beautiful too.
Your eyes reflect hardened obsidian,
birthed from flowing fire itself.
You might still be in pieces,
but you will be rebuilt.
And I will help.
So please, let me handle your scars.
I want to know them inside and out.
I promise I’ll be gentle, I know how tender they can be.
I am well trained in unsettled regrets after midnight,
and fluent in the language of comforting silence.
I know each jagged ridge holds so much you’ve lost
or tried to gain.
I know how much they mean to you.
I promise I’ll be gentle.

I am empty.
You have taken every last word,
every phrase,
every letter,
every whisper.
They all belong to you now,
locked behind your weary eyes.
I can only hope that you keep them safe.
Because they are the last parts
of me that are still alive.
They are all that I have left.
And now they keep you alive too.
They are the warm mug of tea
on the mornings you feel weak,
and they’re the words that leave your mouth
when you feel too scared to speak.
You’ve ruined me.
Every last bit.
And this cavernous heart refuses
to drink deeply, for it knows the blood that
filters through it no longer has your touch.
You’ve ruined me, and I am empty.
But you are filled.
I am empty,
but I will be okay.

I’m letting go of all of it.
Or maybe it’s just seeping out.
Melting through my fingers,
dripping into letters,
pouring into words.
I’m losing parts of me,
but it’s the only way
to lose parts of you as well.
Because you still
live inside these hollow bones,
you still haunt these pulsing veins.
And when I think that you’re all gone,
I still feel you in the rain.