where does it go
after this
when all is said and done

will you flit in and out of my life again
or
will i see myself out of yours

(save myself a little hurt)
(maybe)

or do we meet somewhere in the middle
not strangers,
but acquaintances of some sort

to be honest,
it's been so long
that it's hard to imagine
a life without you

but please,
don't get confused,
this doesn't mean that i want anything back
i wouldn't change anything
(except the timing)
(would have maybe tried to see the rug
before it was pulled out from under me)

rest assured,
you do not have the power any longer

it's just
strange
to think of my life
without you in it

there won't be a house,
picket fences,
or a pool

no stone house
in the italian countryside

no brownstones full of books

in fact,
there won't a future,
not for us,
and that's okay
(is what i tell myself)

at least
there's no shouting,
no hatred,
just
giving up

and that's fine
(is what i tell myself)

yes, i said goodbye
in a poem
six years ago
and now i'll have to say it again
i can do it
(is what i tell myself)

and maybe
one day
when all this is over
we'll be friends
(is what i tell myself)

don't know where to start
don't know when you stopped
caring
liking
wanting
i just know that it's gone

know that i'm
alone
& that you don't mind that

and that's okay
i guess
i'm used to it

i would've appreciated a warning
would've liked to not gotten into it so deeply
but whatever
life goes on
i guess

you couldn't pay me to go back to high school
and trod through those prison-like halls.
but sometimes i ache to go back
to those high school summers,
the ones that you were so often a part of.

yes, i'll admit it.
i do miss
cruising down west shore drive
windows rolled down, summer's air filling the car.
going to the beach after the sun's set,
feeling deliriously dangerous as we sipped captain morgans
and pilfered *****.

i even miss
trailing behind all the skateboarders,
hearing the roll of the wheels on the asphalt,
watching the falls and the triumphs.

i miss chatting with you,
about anything and everything.
beaches and bonfires
and "where's my flopper"

you were there
always smiling,
always willing to let me in on the story,
to share the memories made long before i arrived,
inviting me to tag along.
you were a friend to all,
an enemy to none,
and you never passed judgment on anyone.

and though we hadn't talked
in far too long
i know,
if i had run into you,
you'd smile
say my name, ask how i've been.
that was something i could count on

it's impossible to comprehend,
that somehow
you're gone.

i can say that certainly
this really is
marblehead's greatest loss.

do you remember those nights?
(i'll admit, they're kind of hazy for me)
(they were long ago)
(& maybe i was a little drunk)

twinkle lights
and music on the echo
stolen kisses
and confessed feelings
(on my end)

sometimes tears
sometimes fighting

never knowing,
always wanting

always being a last choice,
disposable,
cheap

i wouldn't ask to do it again
and if i had to,
i'd do it differently

change it all,
except the twinkle lights

when i was young
and at the playground
i liked my feet to be on the ground
didn't really spend much time on the swings
&
when i did go on the swings
i made sure to swing only slightly
never pumped my legs as hard as i could
had no interest in flying

and now:
i'm grown,
and i still prefer my feet on the ground
still don't care for the swings,
or the unpredictability of your swinging moods

(i never know what will set you off)
(i say one thing one day and you laugh, and the next day you yell)
(this is a familiar pattern)
(one that i had hoped to escape)
(why)
(sometimes it feels like a nightmare i can't escape)
(am i not worthy of kindness?)
(am i not worthy of love that is secure?)

sometimes
i catch myself wishing for the sandbox
or just a nice bench
anything that doesn't swing

i did it,
of course.
let myself fall into
the false sense of security

thought that i had done enough
to prevent a ruining.

thought that a day
about me
could simply be good.

but,
apparently,
you had other ideas

and yes,
i can take it.
can deal with a lack of kindness,
can smile through most of the hurt,
but not always.
not today

not when the person
who claimed to love me
who wanted to protect me
set out to hurt

i miss the negative space of your hips

my fists tight,
not clenched,
callused fingertips to callused palms

always braced for battle,
for disaster

quick,
better shore up the defenses.
there's something on the horizon,
can't you see?
i think it's a ship
no,
it's a storm
either way,
best be prepared
make sure everything is shielded
don't let any vulnerability show

i see you
(the real you)
usually early in the morning
(before my brain fully turns on)
(before i can really appreciate it)

snuggly and sweet,
satisfied and smiling
no hint of the bravado that'll set in

i want to pause this moment
(forever)
want you to keep this happiness
bottle it up,
sip from it when you are feeling low

alas

that's impossible

the tick of the clock has never been louder
all i want is more time
(with who you are now)

grab me,
pull me in closer,
remind me of where my home really is
(nestled into your chest)
(safe in your arms)
(smiling against your skin)

and
please
(one day)
let me do this for you
let me be the call home
to remind you of who you are
when you're happy
and smiling
and snuggly

at first:
a bit of static

i can hear you,
but only slightly

hello?
hello?
are you there?
can you hear me?

soon:
nothing

-----

dial tone
and hopelessness.

how am i supposed to reach you
when the connection is so bad?

i'm on a cellphone.
you're on a tin can with a string.

&
i'd do anything to get to you:
battle monsters,
dragons,
taxmen,
the 2 train.

but not if you don't want me to.

what do i do?
do i write a letter?
tie it to a carrier pigeon
hope that you receive it?

i have a feeling
that
even if i hand-delivered
my message to you
it would get lost along the way

i'm not sure where to put it;
my feelings.
never too sure where we stand
(when i think i'm on solid ground with you,
you pull the rug from underneath my feet)

but we push through

we're working on
working on it
and so far
that's working out

but sometimes
well
a lot of times
i find myself afraid

when you grow silent,
i get frantic.
can picture you leaving so easily
can hear the sound of your fading footsteps
(you've done it before, nothing's stopping you now)

and maybe
that's part of it
part of why
i'm focused on the future
of the picket fences and pools

focused on the forever

and when you say
that you will
love me forever
but
maybe not romantically
i fall apart

because
i don't know what to do with that
can't imagine being with anyone other than you
don't even want to entertain the thought

and listen,
i know i made a mistake
(a colossal one)
and it's not one that can be buried
(i'm not asking for that, it wouldn't be fair)

but
my feelings for you have never changed
(they only grow stronger, somehow)

so
i guess
this isn't a poem about late-night love
or a song to sing along to
it's just the truth

the foundation feels shaky
sometimes
but my feet at firmly planted
and will stay there
if you'll let them

so
please
just stay

here we are
somewhere new
again

somewhere
i didn't know existed
(i can't find my way out of a paper bag)
(but if you'd drawn me a map, i would've tried to find my way here)

and
i'm terrified

i've spent nearly five years
chasing after something i wasn't sure existed
and it's even better than i ever imagined

i've been yours
this whole time
(even when you've not wanted me)

but

you've never been mine

and
this is
a lot to lose

i don't want to lose it

nowhere's felt like home
in a very long time
not like you
nothing grounds me
like your grasp
nothing calms me
like your touch
and
i'm homesick

i'm
begging for you
pleading for you

just
pick me up
take me home

you can't box
with a wicked heart
so
i guess my boxing career is over
(before it had a chance to start)

but

can you love
with a wicked heart?

we both know
(i think)
there's evil lurking beneath my surfaces
covered
by
sunshine and freckles and smiles
but
evil
nonetheless

and
i love you
i do
but does it matter?
with a wicked heart?

nighttime
and
sunshine
and france
and friends
and shooting stars
and swimming
and the beach
and sand
and grilling
and good food
and fine wine
and missing you tons
and feeling so full
but
a little empty
too

but

the sun sets later in france
(even she doesn't want the days to end)
and my skin loves it
freckles blooming on my skin
(proof of her kisses)
everyone is so happy
so full
and
a little drunk

so
to hell with it
nothing hurts if you don't let it
i'll let myself feel it all
while i ride alongside the seine
knowing
i'll see you soon
and missing you will have been worth it

airplanes
and
adventures
and
passport stamps
and
peaches so perfect they drip from your fingers the second you bite
and
new fruits to try
new places to see
new oceans to swim in
new countries to explore

and
friendship
and
love
and
comfort
and
security
and
feeling like i'm home
finally

there was a light
i swear
after all these years
i could taste commitment on your tongue

it was so sweet

and fleeting

don't worry
i get it
i wouldn't choose me either

that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt

i want to believe in you
i swear i do
but oftentimes
the things worth believing in
are not true

there was a way
to apologize for my past selves,
the versions of me
that i do not wish to claim.

shoes thwack against concrete
can't get anywhere fast enough
don't remember the first time you said you love me
can still taste the tequila on my tongue

and i'm not really sure if it matters
you'll be gone soon
i'm sure of it

it's okay
i like to be alone sometimes
and listen to the sounds of the city
but sometimes
i hear people chatting
and
i ache to be a part of something
i find that maybe
i don't really want to be alone

and
i'm lonely
which
makes me want to wrap myself inside of your love
fill myself up on it until there's room for nothing else
but
that's not possible
and
even if it were
there's no way you'd let it happen

so
i love you
but
i feel so alone

i guess.
it's nearing summer,
and you're gone

and

i'm tired of writing about you.

i'm tired
of wondering
why people don't care

so there.
i'm done,
over it.
will only think about it
every other day
until
you finally
fade away.

the sun's setting
but
i don't want to turn on the lights
just want to watch the light fade from the room
windows open
listen to the low hum of life in the city
feel peace
realize
it's been a while since i've sat with myself
like this
alone
no distractions

i think
it's kind of
nice

i always said that winter
was our season
that the chill in the air
turned you warm to me

this is true

and yet

it's march

it was 70 the other day

and you're still here
(kind of)
(writing this down makes me feel like i'm ensuring your disappearance)
(we'll see)

not me
still don't really know

trying to soften the inevitable blow
(not really trying)
(too busy enjoying this)
(trying hard to not look forwards or back)

but there you are
and i am here
and sometimes
i open my eyes
wipe the sleep from my lids
and find
there you are
in bed
next to me

and i know it's stupid
to let myself
melt into your embrace
feel safe
exhale the breath i've (apparently) been holding

but
i can't help it
don't really want to
i'll try to prepare for the pain

but,
oh,
it will have been worth it

too busy
trying to save myself

stop
trying to pull me under
i'm trying
so hard
to stay
afloat

i don't know
where to leave you
or how
or if it's even possible

or should i try again?
rake myself against the coals
to try to win your forgiveness
for something
i'm not even sure i did

probably?
i don't know.
this is
endless
exhausting
emotionally draining

sometimes
it seems like to much
to even put up with

i love new york
and you
(i think)

i like to get out of the city
sometimes
it feels like escaping

silly,
i know

since you're never around
and
we've not done much here
(in a city of hundreds of zipcodes
our moments were contained to a few)

but still

new york will never be mine
and it'll always be yours

you're tied together in my mind
(there's no escaping that)

and massachusetts
might be my home
maybe not anymore

i know nowhere to call my own
(even the apartments are temporary)

but i had thought
i'd carved a spot in your arms
nestled agains your chest
that from the place in my bed
that i could call home

but i was wrong