i
am
s  o
sorry
that   i
couldn't
help you
find  your
way    back
to your heart.

how do i learn to forget the ups and downs of your speech, the soft pressure of your fingers dragging down my skin, the promises at the end of your sentences and the hints of forever seeping out of the cracks in your dusty brick walls? at the end i think there were only a few spaces where you let me see you, let me in. i just wanted to be enough for you.

I love that every time
you hear that word-
wholeheartedly- a
switch will flip in your
brain (a Megan Switch,
if you will) and you will
think of me telling you
why I love that word,
think of my laugh,
think of my unstrong arms,
think of that note you
wrote me just two months
ago (the same note that I
ripped to shreds and
threw in the Missouri River
with the rest of your things,
watched the pieces flutter
in the 3 am air before they
began their journey to the
Gulf of Mexico) with that
sentence scribbled at the end.
"I love you wholeheartedly."

I had a
dream last
night that I
told you I
wish you
had picked
me but that
it hurts to
breathe the
same air as
you these
days and
you kissed
my fingers
in retaliation.

how
m a n y
times   d o
i have   to tell
myself  it's  okay
to feel like there is an
entire tree growing inside
me  before  i  actually  accept
it