i don't know if i am proud that he
loved me first or jealous because he
liked you last.  some selfish part of
me still hopes that when i see him next
he will tell me that it's always been
me, even though i know i'd be too
scared to say it to him, and he deserves
better than that. i thought maybe
you could be that for him, but you
left too, and honestly, i'm furious
that you're not coming back

i am so shattered--
parts of me are
2159 miles away
and i am scared
they will never
come back

i want to know the story
behind every freckle on your
back and ever scar on your
hands, i want to know how
they stuck with you and i want
to know the story of how
i stuck with you too

i turned away so i wouldn't
have to watch you leave, but
i heard your car start and
i panicked

how do i breathe without you,
how do i breathe without,
how do i breathe?

if i'm being honest with myself,
i am always scared

i am scared that someday i will trip in the
school hallway with everyone around, and
i am scared that my family will stop being able
to take care of ourselves. i am
scared that a third world war will erupt and
it will start two streets down the road from me
and end in my front yard

i am scared that one day i'll convince myself
that nobody really loves me, and, even worse, that
nobody will be around to tell me otherwise. and
i am scared that i'll drown at camp this summer
and i'm scared that if i don't, i will want to

i'm scared of needles and feet and airplanes
and on especially bad nights, i am afraid of the dark.

mostly i'm afraid that i will never stop living my
life on the brink of a panic attack, that i will always
back down from a fight, that i will never learn
to speak for myself, and i am scared that i will never
become anything more than this

when all your scars
fade, will you pretend
you never had them
in the first place?

i wish i could figure out the
person you've become so i could
stop expecting the old you
to show up at my door.

(by now it would feel
like seeing a
ghost)