it would be a
privilege
to drown
with you.

if you're still out
there and if you
still read these and
if you still remember
the password to my
private blog, if you
still have my diary
entry and that painting
that flask, that TV that
shirt, those jeans, if you
still remember me, my
skin, my hips, the way
i smile, if you haven't
erased me off your
elbows, brushed me
off your chest, wiped
me against your pockets
find my chapstick in an
old jacket and call me



hey, chris. call me.

(today)he talked a whole
lot and i only listened
till i realized that stupid
satillo blanket was over
my knees and you tacked
that little 3x5 dia de los
muertos card beneath
my corkboard and
wrapped me up
(14 months ago.)

I find myself watching
movies for the purpose
of having something I
can relate to you about
the composition in
American ****** is
amazing Or asking
what video game you
think I should buy, I
remember your punctuation
and you use none in your
replies, I'm beyond being
in love with you, so i don't
understand why i'm still
trying to be your
perfect
girl.