i know we've lost time
but we haven't lost each other,
no matter how long we're apart
i could never love another
(not the way that i loved you)

every poem i was afraid
to write ended with
you.

during summer, we avoided the ocean
because it reminded us how
small we really are, and instead of singing
lullabies to drift away in waves of sleep,
we sang all night long to stay awake
for fear that if we let ourselves go, we'd have nothing
left to rise for by morning

(i never closed my eyes, but i had one
hell of a dream)

i heard once on the playground that the human heart
is about the size of it's owner's fist;
that day i spent my whole afternoon
gathering handfuls of earth within the
palms of my hands just to see
how much i could hold, as if that could show me
how much i was capable of loving, but dirt
slipped through my fingers when i loosened my
grip, and i was scared that people were the same
(even at eight, i knew that sometimes the only reason
people stayed was because you held them too tight,
and if midnight provided a last-minute flight
they wouldn't hesitate to catch it because holding on
was harder than running away).
later on, i tried to catch people like fish,
reeling them in and then leaving them on a hook
because when i held them at a distance they were
pretty to look at and i could feel their heat, but when i
clutched them close to my chest, underneath my line of
sight, it was much easier for them to
break and hide.  that all changed when i met
you though; i disabled all my traps and
reached out to you with bare fingers, telling myself
if i could hide you between my hands then
maybe you wouldn't mind hiding in my heart.
i started out timid, grasping handfuls of your
shirt and the way your laugh sounded when it was
me that caused it, and sometimes at night
when i pretended you were there with me, i would
reach out for you, but daylight was different
and i've always had small hands

(i realized it was never about taking your heart when you
reached for my hand and held it like it was your favourite secret
you couldn't keep any longer; it was about letting you have mine)

i can't break fear
when it's being
built into
me

nothing is more violent than
love, but i would reconstruct
mountains just to have another
chance to break them down
again with you

it was so dark that i couldn't see
his hand slip into mine, and i was numb enough
by the end of the night that my head didn't realize
what it meant when he reached under my skirt;
for the first time in a long time i felt something,
even if it was only skin against bone
(i had already known i was
a skeleton of what i used to be)  

later, another boy came along
and kissed my bruises away
(ones i didn't even know i had until
they were gone, but i felt them like
phantom limbs when he had to leave)
and every time his fingers touched
mine i felt it deep in my chest, like a
kick-drum pounding over and over again
                (i thought maybe love like that could never end,

but really, he was just another dream waiting
to become a nightmare)

i just want to sit and be
still with you, but
my heart never slows
when you're around and
i always end up searching
dead ends for what words
to use next

(my fingers still shake at the
mention of your name)

i'm sorry i hid,
but seeing you would have meant saying
goodbye all over again,
and i wanted to keep your last words to me
'i love you too'

i don't need you anymore
   --but some days i need someone who will
   listen, somebody who will hold my hand and
   promise me that it's okay, that someday
   all my scars will go away, and that even if they don't
   i can still be beautiful; i don't need you anymore,
   but some days i need somebody who could make me feel
   something only you could, and some days all i need
   somebody who will keep me safe--

(and some days i wish it was okay for me to
still want you here)

i want my name to become
synonymous with
your definition of hope
        (i don't know how to save you
        but i know how to try,
        and if you let me, i'll be your saving grace)

last night i went through old polaroids
of when you were still around-
the edges had faded and i couldn't
remember if they had once been coloured
or if the pictures had always been
black and white.  i tried to think back
to the exact moments they were taken, but
i couldn't get dates to stick in my head,
just the sound of your laugh right after
the camera had clicked- (it changed almost monthly,
and it was the only way i judged the
passing of time back then)

when i put them away to get some sleep,
i dreamt of your new laugh, and when i woke up
i realized i wasn't able to hear it.

i didn't mind when you
walked away, and i didn't pretend
to ignore it when you looked back
twice, but (in all honesty),
a goodbye would have been nice

&on; the count of three, we laid out our flaws and
they mirrored each other perfectly-
when i tried to take mine back
i gathered some of yours (and it was
an accident, i swear, but i don't mind
carrying them for you)

i know how heavy you must feel

instead of picking flowers for you
i'll take you where they grow,
together we can watch them die
when heat gives way to snow

(i just want to be with you
as seasons come and go)

i'll be patient for you
if that's what you need

(it's the only way i know
how to tell you
i love you)

i'm scared of falling in                
love again (because i don't                                    
want to be more fragile than)
i already am

do you remember when we
were children, and we would spin
in circles for minutes straight
just to make ourselves dizzy?

that's how my head feels when
i see you these days- it's like i can
feel the world rotating under my
feet- every thought, every edge
blurring until they're gone, but
(luckily) this paper is lined thick and
your name alone
is poetry.

honesty is just a desperate attempt
for closure used when
there's no more time to fake our way
around the truth

and i always like to remind myself
how bad i am with words,
but here we are--
                             i can't stop talking, and this is
                             the least understandable i've been in
                             months but the most understanding
                             you've been ever
        (my thoughts are illegible but
        your concern is poetry)

some days i forget
how to love everyone
but you.

he said i look more like an
iris than anything else
(and i couldn't help but think
how right he was, and how ironic
that he doesn't even have any idea
who i am)

i was tired of feeling so much
bigger on the inside,
       so instead of letting myself free
       i just poured myself out

(and what a shame, i ended up
a puddle instead of an ocean)

i'm sorry,
some things just don't
change-

(you could tell me
you still love me
one thousand times
and it wouldn't
make a difference;
i started tracing
his name into
the margins of my
school papers long
before you were
gone)

maybe it's time we just
forget

i know that we all break in different
ways (and who am i to talk?) but
i thought you were stronger than that.

sometimes i wonder if
kacie would be happier if
she didn't smoke, or
if that is the very thing that
holds her together

(judging by the way she is
now, i suppose i'll never
really know)

he said
it's just easier this way,
to let you go before you're
gone

she said
you're only hurting yourself
more, letting go instead of
holding on to hope

he said*
i just don't want to hold on
anymore

she said*
but you have to, for me
please

(but for her own sake,
she'd already prepared herself
to get ready to let go)

i don't need you to hold my hand
anymore to reassure me that you're there,
but sometimes i still get scared, so
i'm begging you tonight--
                                             please
                                                       don't
                                                               *go

i have run
out of words
to give to
you
.

maybe, just maybe, somebody
hollowed out the empty spaces in
the trees at crescent park
just as a secret message to me,
to remind me that it's okay
for beautiful things to feel empty.

saudad (n)-- 1. knowing that
coffee and cigarettes
will never smell
quite as good as they
did on you

2. hearing your name over and
over again, then suddenly,
not at all, because even i am
too scared to whisper it
to the dark

3. watching you fade before
you're even gone; if you ever come
back home, you won't be the man
you were one year ago.

you think nobody's been
listening, but i always
did

i wonder when ghosts from
our pasts die,
do we feel them go
like we do the
living?

i keep my hands held close to my sides
for fear that if i dare stretch them too far
i may burn my fingers upon the edge of the stars--
       (i suppose the fear i know is just a side effect of
       having lost things i've loved far too long
       and loving things too lost to play along)

they told me happiness would
come, if only i'd look

                                     (but i am tired of searching
                                      only to find nothing)

i swear, i'm not a thief,
but if given the opportunity
i would take your
heart and run to the edge
of the universe and
back, just to have you chase me
(it may be my only way
to leave you breathless, the same
way you leave me)

because it's like every time we're
in the same room, i can't
pull my eyes away from the curve
of your ears or the lines of your
knees or the way your veins are
permanently risen off the
back of your hands, like you're
always gripping something,
       you     just     don't    know    what

(it's overwhelming, knowing how
conveniently my hands would
fit into yours, so that you'd finally have
something to hold on to)

i wish i could erase all the worlds you've
ever whispered into my ear,
but my blood runs thick with ink
instead of graphite and lead,
and my bones are heavy with every
syllable you ever spoke.

darling, do you
     even know
how                          
      *******
                ­ cute
   you are?