you
used
to look
at me like
i  had  been
plucked out of
the sky by some
magnificent being
just for you, like my
heart   was   n o t   an
abandoned  house, like
my fingertips could spell
out your  future  in the air
right before your eyes. god
what if i never find another
person  who will  love  me
the same  way you  did?

you made me
want to go

slower,

breathe
deep er,
notice the
dots you get
on your   face
when  you  need
to shave or the small
fluttering in my chest
when you just said simple
things like "chill out" or
"yeah?" and now i only
want to speed up my
hours   until  i  feel
like   i  can   walk
without my legs
r e m i n d ing
m e        o f
y    o    u
.

your dad went grey
while I was away, you
grew the brown beard
he lost, your dad went
grey while I was away,
you grew the brown
beard he lost.

one year ago was
the conversation
(you know the one)
abouthowyouknew
were were meant to
be together. i had
thought this would
get easier but lately
i've been missing the
wayyouusedtosqueeze
my arm   and   tell me
something beautiful.
i wish i could ask
you to come back
to me but i know
you'll pick her
every time.
i'm sorry
i loved
you as
much
as i
did
without warning.
i hope
someday
your heart
will find mine
again,   though.

do you
drive past
walmart three
times trying to
decide if you want
m&ms;, if only people
heard the fights that go
on inside your head, the
way you feel the weight
of your skin on your legs
you have scabs from thigh
rub from running up hills
apparently men like meat
compared to bones but will
strip you for all your worth
like a beef rib, have you seen
those rubberbands that have
sat too long in the sun? or
grapes at the bottom of the
bowl? strawberries in the
corner of the basket?
won't cut your hair
because you think it's
the only beautiful thing
about you, do you eat
bread in splendor and
pretend you're john,
peter, mark and luke
you're just trying to
be passage in the
**** bible, effortless
poetic, in red, his
words, spoken
by a prophet.

put this in your wallet
you said, and you ripped
a dollar in half, I told you
it was illegal and you shrugged
just keep it in your wallet*
how many times have I
been over you, written
a silly poem about leaving
you, talked about letting go?
well, talk about letting go,
Chris, I can't take it out.

i think
i've forgotten
how to write.
they say you're
supposed to push
through that, but i
keep writing the
same thing over
and over again. i
can only say "holy
**** i miss you" in
so many ways. i
used to say it in
laced fingers and
lingering forehead
kisses. now i say it
in every syllable of
every word i've
posted on the
internet in case
you might see
them (aside from
the fact that they
would otherwise
drown me in my
sleep) and in
desperate
searches
for notes
that i just
maybe didn't
grab when i
threw out the
final pieces of
your things last
month. i don't
know how to
do this, Ryan.
i can't do this.

Devon tried
but his hands
were sticky and his voice,
shaky, and so
I refused to
look him in the
eyes.