i needed a way out
so i called you
i had to fill myself back up with something that wasn't vile
and i still can't figure out why i thought you could do that for me
39 minutes of small talk
filled with repeated "how are you?'s" for lack of better conversation
39 minutes of small windows of silence hoping you could carry me with your words

instead all i got was 39 minutes of disappointment
once i realized that i had become more empty than before i dialed your number

there's no worse feeling than feeling like an imposter in your own body
when scratching an itch on your wrist feels rude
when sleeping in your own bed feels criminal
when dressing yourself feels perverted

332 days and your memory continues to haunt me

I tried writing you into my tiny note space, but realized I had nothing left to say.

This isn't for the dancers dancing under the lonely streetlights with their partner, Jack Daniels coarsing through their pathetic veins
This isn't for you, sound asleep in your down comforters while your air conditioner sings to the household
This isn't for you, completely unaware of exactly how much you mean to me that after 4 months, I'm still crying every night
This is for me. For the one who can't cry herself to sleep because she can't sleep and for the one who can't "eat her feelings" because she can't eat. Yes, this is for the one who's heart is too big for her sleeve.

I get lost in thought
More often than not
And more often than not
I'm thinking about you
When I'm thinking about you
My breath slows and my heart gets big
"We live and we learn" you said
As if we were a science experiment that went haywire