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Megan Grace Jun 2014
you
w i l l
always
be white
noise,    a
thrumming
in my fingertips
as i'm falling asleep,
a long-existing ache in
my chest from not telling
you  i loved  you for  too
many months. i wanted
you- hot  and  cold and
not being able to break
from you- but i cannot
want you anymore,
cannot   miss   you
anymore, cannot
dream about
y   o   u   r
p r o m i s e s
and your laugh,
cannot wake up
hoping you've
walked out of
mymindand
f  o  u  n  d
yourself    in
the extra space
in   my   bed.   i
missyou,though.
how sad is that, to
miss  someone  who
carved me out to   make
room for  w h a t  i thought
was himself and filled me only
with  beautiful  words  that  were
empty                    ­                      
                                    empty
­empty.                          
i want to move on
i want to move
i want to
i want
i
Megan Grace Jun 2014
It scares me that I was right
where  you  wanted me. I
was nothing  but one  of
your masterpieces (oil
on canvas), a rubber
duck floating out
to  sea  with  no
r e d flares and
a   hurricane
o  n   t  h  e
h  o  r  i  z  o  n  .
Megan Grace Jun 2014
If I could track myself down
(go back to when I completely
lost myself in you) I'm sure I'd
be on your couch with that
white blanket and your
h  e  a  r  t  b  e  a  t
racingracingracing
beneathe my ear. How
does
it feel to sit there without
me now? I wonder if you miss
me, do you wish         you could call
me, do you wish you could kiss
my fingers like you used to? I
had a dream last night
that we got married
on a jungle gym.
I dropped some
books off on your
front   porch   and   I
wonder  how  you felt
when you saw them
there.  I  hope  it
hurt even just
a  l i t t l e.
Megan Grace Jun 2014
I
had
thought
y o u  w e r e
worth every star
in a country sky but
you do  not  deserve my
hardest laughs, my lightest
fingers, my early morning
grouchiness. I  u s e d  to
believe   y o u   were
the  whole  entire
w  o  r  l  d  .
I have a lot of small thoughts that I'm trying to turn into one, cohesive thought. Sorry for this tiny madness.
Megan Grace Jun 2014
It is weird that I will never go to a
Foxlin show, never hear the songs
you claim are about me, never let
the words run across the floor and
up my legs, never let them settle
deep down in the gaping hole you
left just to the right of my heart.
It was strange to be the subject
of your art. I wonder how you
feel being the subject of mine.
Megan Grace Jun 2014
It will always remind me of the
fabric on the seats of your
beat up Taurus (god I was so
scared of that car, of you), a
profession of love for Whole
Foods and the best rootbeer
I'll ever taste (you sat yours
in the cup holder between
us to grab my face and say,
"Hey, look at me. You're so
beautiful" before reigniting
everything with your mouth on
my mouth), a book of pictures
of New York City (the one you
said you wanted to buy for me
and snuck off the shelf and to
the counter when I wasn't looking)
that I can't seem to throw out
no matter how hard I try, and
you telling me "it's happening"
when I apologized for my lack
of meat-eating that was
keeping you from falling in
love with me. Tell me how
I'm supposed to move on,
please, because I'm having
trouble forgetting your details.
title is my favorite Cataldo song
Megan Grace Jun 2014
oh god i'm so sorry
i built you a tsunami
when all you wanted
was a rain shower i
wanted (needed) to
be your answer but
you had no open-
ended questions i
am drunk and i called
someone else
I found this in my journal this morning
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