Isn't it exhausting,
living with so much hatred?
Not being able to let go
and forgive someone who once meant everything to you?
Doesn't it burn your skin and seer through your bones?
Eat you away?
Or have you changed too much
from the man I once new?
Now your heart has become numb.

I knew.
I knew from the moment you told me how beautiful
you thought I was,
that it would last only as long
as the twinkling of a far away star.
Not even long enough for me to to remember to say hello.
Five A.M. became a habit
and we danced to the songs of chirping birds.
I let you hold me even though I knew
your arms craved a different cold body.
Those long nights outside the church that weren't
long enough.
That cute lisp and curly hair.
Those shivering arms and basketball shorts.
The adorable shyness and humility.
Walk me to my gate one more time.
I should have let you come over that one night.
Hot and sweaty, 2 a.m.,
to sneak in and use my shower.
Fill the room with sticky heat
and let the steam rise out as you exit the shower.
(You can still take me up on that offer.)
Cause I miss the way you tell me I don't smell like smoke
and how you listened to me explain
the theory behind the elder wand,
like you actually cared.
Fern Gully.
You spelled it wrong.
No spaces.
I. I. I.
Your jacket smelled like heaven draped over my legs and
I wanted to live inside the threads.
Walking so far just to listen to me ramble on.
Was it worth it? Ever.
Even after running back to her?
One. One. Only one week
that I was temporarily in love.
Tiger's Blood snow cones with cream on top
and you've never been to a concert so run to Salt Lake with me.
You do like to run, don't you?
Run from your mom. Run from your friends.
Run from feelings.
Run from her.
and Run to her at the same time.
But don't you miss laying in the street at three in the morning?
Or shaking the hand of the copper man?
and watching the summary of my obsession
on  my short green couch?
and holding me?
Even though it lasted a week,
a perfect week,
it's time to disappear.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

You.
You are 10,000 miles away
and yet, I still want to run  my hands through your
wet, dark brown hair.
I want to press myself against your warm body
and live in the steam and smell of a hot shower.
I want to breathe in your kiss and taste the shampoo
that slowly dripped  from your wet mop and fell on your lips.
Find a cheap motel room and dream there.
Dream the things you live and live the things you dream.
In that dimly lit, musky, hotel room that I'm dreaming of right now,
where we can forget the world.
I want to forget Clint Eastwood and September and the snow.
I can't remember the color of your eyes
because you kiss with eyes closed
and it's been an awful while since I've opened them.
I wish.
I want to watch you drive down California highways--
sunglasses on and my bare feet hanging out the window, my nailpolish sparkling in
the California sun.  
I want to make you laugh, and watch  your perfect eyebrows crinkle with
your nose when you admirably look at me.
I want to take pieces of paper and write my heart on them
then put them in a memory box
and throw them all out the window.
I want to go to the airport and find you standing
all alone,
looking lost .
Then pull over in a car and make the night alive.
Listen to the stars laughing and lose myself inside of you.
I want the games.
Challenging and, well, you know.
I want the way you make me feel.
Like I'm about to burst out of my skin
at any moment
because of passion.
I want. I want. I want.
You.
Find a dark place deep into the night and settle down
for a couple hours and let our minds shut
down for once.
No devil truck or eyeless lips or hand guns to decide our fate.
and just slip away into each other's bodies,
and become submerged in each other's kiss.

You have no idea how long I thought about that letter.
Or how many rough drafts I wrote, noted, and then ripped up.
Or how badly i thought I would throw up on the way there.
And did you notice how much I was shaking? and for a moment I forgot that anything had changed. That we don't speak anymore.
Then I left, still shaking, but I wish I could have, somehow, still been there.
Known what your parents said when the door slammed shut. Known what you did.
Did you look at them right away? or wait until you fixed your sleepy hair?
Did you walk into the kitchen because your mom wanted to see them? Spill them out onto the counter and she picks up the blue envelope and say, "What's this?" or did you run up to your room-up the stairs and to the right- close the door, sit on your bed, and pull them out carefully and gently?
Were you surprised when you pulled out the envelope? or did you just know that that's how I am?
Did you want to read it? or were you scared?
I wish I could have seen you open it, because I think I can imagine your careful fingers.
But not your eyes. I wish I could have seen your eyes. Because eyes are the windows to the soul and one time your soul was in love with mine.
Did you think , "oh, lined paper. that's just like her."? because that's what the point was.
Was the amount of "I'm sorry"s too much? or appreciated?
And what did you think when you turned it over? Did it make you hate me? or think of me?
Did you have to read it more than once to take it in?
And after you folded it back up, is it sitting on the table next to your bed? or maybe in the drawer or in a wallet or a box or a secret place that no one knows?
Did you relive our memories? or have you already blocked those out of your mind?
Did you fight back the urge to text me about it? or did you just already never want to speak to me again?
And I dont know why, but you told your friends about the letter but not what was in it.
Not waht it said. And if I could know one thing, it quite possibly could be why you didn't tell them what I had said.
Was it becaue you didn't want her to find out?
Was it to protect me from her?
or was it because it was special to you?
That, even though we are not together and we don't want to be and nothing will ever happen, nor should it, you feel the same way and there's still something there for you too?
Was it on your mind the whole day? or was it easy to forget?
and was your tweet at 1:32 a.m. about me?
Can I just pretend it was anyways? because it makes me feel better.
Do you miss talking?
I miss talking.
I miss you bringing me Mountain Dews and going to Roxberry every Monday night for three weeks and Zupas and doing homework together and Stairway to Heaven and taking two hours to say goodnight and shooting stars and talking about Paris and wanting to drop out of school and run away and Disneyland- Man do I miss Disneyland!- and California and watching the color show with your arm around me and Soaring Over California and you pushing me in your dad's wheelchair and holding hands and running to get onto the Ferris Wheel on time and you went in one of the nonswinging carriages for me and overlooking all of the park and I wanted you to kiss me but I was scared and we rode the Little mermaid ride with me a million times and we rode the teacups and you rode Dumbo with me and I felt like a little girl again and you walked through Sleeping Beauty's castle with me cause I love it so much and you got so scared when that little guy jumped out and I really liked you then and letting you drive my car and blasting music when it rains and going to concerts and you letting me choose the radio stations and going to Thanksgiving Point and you hating that salad that I loved and cuddling on my lawn in the freezing cold and "what would you do if I fell asleep right now?"  "I dunno. I'd probably stay here." "Good." and yeah it was a full moon and you sneaking out cause I was scared to death but you got caught and your mom was mad and I had to make cookies and write a note and I think she really hated me and my sparkly Paris shirt that got glitter all over you and "What should I write a poem about?" cause you were the only one I was comfortable enough with to ask that and hanging out with you and Thomas and how you couldn't figure out how to use the library and your truck and making bets on football games and helping you with your eagle project and I didn't know anyone that was there so I talked to your mom and then I stayed over probably for too long and we looked up music on iTunes and we never stopped texting and you making me muffins and trying to steal my phone and read it and how you told me that I made you want to be a better person and that you told me that you think I'm a good singer and how much you hated edamame but I don't know why and you always wanted me to try sea food and listen to your music and how you let me just come over and vent and cry to you when I was in a fight with my mom and I told you I wasn't going home and I would sleep in my car and you told me I could sleep in your basement and how understanding and kind you were.
and the only thing I can still say is I'm sorry.

I'm reading your favorite
book right now.

I look at you and I realize, I don't know you anymore.
Gaunt eyes,
malicious lips,
gnashing teeth,
wicked heart.
The hollow shell of a memory, you are.
But that's all you are.
You can't hold my heart anymore,
your hands are too bitterly frozen.
You can't make e smile anymore,
your jokes are weak,
pathetic,
cursed,
vindictive.
You've disguised the beautiful rose in bushes of thorns,
and that rose is now a ****.
And the candle under the bushel is melted.
Gone.
I was thinking about it today,
I look at you and I realize,
I don't know you anymore.
Goodbye, stranger.

Your feet have no longer stepped along the shiny finish of my floors.
Your smell, no longer seeped into the fabric.
Your awkward presence no longer lingers at the door.
My house is no longer the home you choose to pick.
Your love no longer resting on my bed.
I miss the way your laugh danced around my room,
it loved to kiss my silly head,
the chamber that is now your incarnate tomb.
When you see me, is it still hard to breathe?
When I touch you, does it make you just break down?
Does the way I hug you make it hard to see?
And in the scent of me, you love, you drown?
You're a good actor, fool. ****. Dope.
The way you're acting now is prime.
The way you act like I'm not there, that's what you hope.
And how you really cant see me. How I cry, inside.
Take me back, Imbecile!
We can kiss through the dawn.
Passionate love, kiss me unforgivable.
But you can't even love me when I'm gone.

This house we fool around in, beloved.
this crumbled, shattered, defiled old home
is one of memories I felt true love in.
And winds of change I fear it gone with old.
The sun with awful purpose is setting.
I beg, please stay, just a while longer.
The destructive rain seems to you, abetting
I remember when you looked at me much fonder.
Without that ruined, abandoned, white house
just how will I remember how this started?
All on that roof, you and I, friends about
I released my love for you, once guarded.
But now, you and your fickle heart forget me
and I still love you, and cry in memory.