like any
narrator,
i'm obsessed
with being
some one
else.

every wall of this house reminds me
of you-

reminds me that you are 591 miles
away, and i haven't heard from you
for seventeen days, and i am beginning
to worry

before you left we sat on the
couch and i asked you to promise
me you would stay alive.
when i held out my pinkie you couldn't
take it, and i always tried to make sure
you'd never see me cry, but i couldn't
stand the thought of living
around your ghost and i guess i just
                                                   lost it

there is a cold spot on the sofa and
i wonder if it is you

it is summer again, and
we are getting high underneath
the tanglewood bridge

our shoulders stick together
with sweat, one of us coughing,
inexperienced, the other
laughing

it is summer again, and
i don't remember a day when i
didn't want to spend
all my time with
you

you took every
fear i had about
inadequacy
and turned them
from mountains to
speed bumps,
reminding me
to slow down,
but never stop

i want to cut myself
open, and pour out every
word i thought about
telling you but never did

and stitch myself
up without anyone's help,
and clean away everything
i have depended on to fill
empty spaces, and replace it
with something new

i want to paint over my
wounds so that i don't have
to be reminded of what
i went through to get here

i want to be beautiful without
you, i want to be courageous

i want to glitter
like dust does in
sunlight

you said
i heard that when
people are in love,
their hearts beat in sync
and you squeezed
my fingers
where my  pulse
raced in time with
yours