sometimes I
still taste you
on my breath.

i so often find myself
looking for a home
in men, in work, in
menial activities, in
angry runs where
I lose so much
breath my
lungs feel
like they
are

bleeding.

but I find solace in books,
page 3, page 10, 56, 145,
230, I don't ever want
to lose myself, i imagine
it's a sign of weakness,
or the inability to deal
with reality but the peace
is so alarming, it makes me
want to cry.

Paul told me to
******* as if
Brooke was just
an abbreviation
and I'm starting
to think that it is

I swear I've been doing really
okay.  I take  full breaths  and
I've  been sleeping  almost all
the  way  through   the  night.
I   don't  cry   w h e n   I  walk
through  the  l a s t  place  we
kissed  or  the   final    s p o t
where   you   told   me  you
loved me. I can watch your
favorite movie or listen to
yourfavoritebandwithout
falling apart. The antique
mall no longer turns me
i n t o   a   puddle   and
macaroni  and  cheese
only barely reminds
me  of  our   f i r s t
date. But last night
Kaitlyn and I went
to the  river  and I
stood in the same
patch of dirt where
I watched your notes-
all white and stark in the
moonlight-  begin  t h e i r
journey down south. I sat on
the big rock where Kaitlyn and
Chloe held my hands for what felt
like forever until my chest was rising
and falling  like normal (two months
ago almost to the date but god how
was  it not yesterday?) and  there
were  simply stars stars stars as
f a r  as I could  see, and t h i s
little,     tiny,     insignificant
piece  of  me  missed  you.

if you were here i like to
think that i would yell, i
would scream (because
even after all of this i
haven't lost my will to
be boisterously loud) or
maybe I would hit you
(god I've never actually
put my hands on another
person unless it was soft
and meant "hey i love you
please don't leave me")
i just want you to feel the
thunderstorm tumbling inside
me how can i make you see
that how can i make you see
that how can i make you i
wanted to buy a house with
you, you ******* *******