Every time you
leave me it hurts
more
hurts more
hurts like a hammer
on my shins, the
very definition of
shambles. I almost
told you to come
back and I'm so
glad I didn't.

We have tumbled
into the realm of
the most unsettled
humans- scraping
fingernails and hands
that have not held
others.
But we will find our
way out. What was it
you said? "You're the
light on the other
side," I think. You're
always my light on
the other side, Ryan,
always.

I only want to eat flowers and bloom
beautifully.

I
love
y o u
m o s t
because
you  look
at me like I
am  someone
worth knowing.

sword stuck stomachs,
we are drifting into a tide
of something with an aftertaste
hinting of shame, of nights of
reaching out and not finding
you. god, i am trying,
believe me i am trying,
but you looped my lungs around
your left index finger and put
yourself in charge of the labor
of my breaths and I am
here
here
hopelessly here,
glued to the blue of your eyes
and trying to capture every word
as they slip from your mouth.

Thank you for loving
me even when I am
messy.

I dream mostly
in flowers and
in the shape of
your words
pressed quietly
into the skin
behind my right
ear.

i feel like i'm full of
weeds. i don't know
if that makes sense.
you wrote a letter at
the front of the journal
you bought for me and
i read the words over
and over when i'm lonely,
as if it's going to bring
you back. but it's not
going to bring you back,
is it? why can't i fall
out of love with you?

it was so simple.
you put your
hand on your heart,
you said "you're
first in here."

If I am still what I eat
then today I want to
have hot air balloons
for breakfast and silly
string for lunch, star-
shaped tissue paper
and the center of
Ryan's heart. I only
want to be something
that is worthwhile.

god please just come back come
back. i am ripped apart and
shredded into the tiniest pieces
and scattered on the floor. they are
so small that I don't think anyone
would be able to pick them up
even if they wanted to. I swear I
haven't slept a full night since
my fingers weren't allowed to
have yours anymore and I want
your words to be meant for me
again. when do I get to call you
mine and know you aren't going
anywhere? I don't know how to
hold all the aching in my chest
and not have it spill out of my
mouth every time you're around.
I miss your knees and your movie
collection and the way you said
my name so that it sounded like a
promise. you were always enough.

I feel like every
time I see you
it's like I have
forgotten how
to breathe up
until that point.
I'm not sure
how I am ever
without you.

My couch still whispers
the trailing ends of a few
of your sentences and I
can hear them from my
bed in the next room.
I've tried to block them
out but hands and pillows
and quilts can only do
so much and eventually
the words seep into my
dreams and make me
believe that this will all
work itself out in time.
I need new furniture.

I have tried
to get over
you but I
can't,
because
how do you
move on
from someone
you can
taste in
your dreams?

I will never stop
searching for you
in other people
and I swear you
are in every quiet
song, in each stitch
of my favorite
sweater, in the rain
puddle outside my
front door, and I
hear your laughter
rolling above in the
thunder. I will
always love you.

how can i still love someone
who treated me like chewing
gum- wadded me up in his
mouth and blew the world's
biggest bubble, sent himself
up into space with my offset
reciprocation, soared past
the stars he was so obsessed
with, used saturn's rings to
burst all that i was. and when
he fell back into earth's orbit
he was safe, but i was scattered
somewhere around neptune.
i cannot find my way back.

I put all your physical words in a box-
"you are ADORABLE" scribbled on a receipt
          the book with the pictures of
          New York City and the one with
          the history of Christmas
the map from the pumpkin patch
          your band's cds
a 9 volt battery
          a button from the trails west
          festival
a ticket to the show your band played at your dream venue
          my ticket stub from This Is the
          End
directions to Kim's house
          the journal you gave me for  
          Christmas with a letter from you
          on the first two pages
a napkin I kept hidden in my wallet with "you are very cute" written in your smallest print
          a Virgil's Rootbeer bottle cap
          from our second first date
(god did you know I had kept all those things)-
but I can't figure out how to package all the sentences you left swimming around in my head

you are
summer
fall and
winter
for me
and so i
like the
spring.

I drove past that place
where we went to see
the fireworks and there
was some ghost of me
leaning against a ghost
of you. I saw myself
grumble "we missed
them" into your navy
striped shirt, watched
you kiss my forehead
and whisper "we'll find
others, beautiful. there
are always others."