it's just

that I hope macaroni and
cheese makes you miss me
and that you'll be downtown
and drive by my building and
see my car and feel an ache in
your chest because you are not
allowed inside anymore and
that your hands can barely
play all those songs you wrote
about me at your shows and
that the book on astronomy I
gave you glares at you from
the shelf and that no one will
kiss you like I did, no one will
make you shiver like I did, no
one will light a fire inside of you
like
I
did.

l i k e      t h e      g l a s s
bottles on my bookshelf
you havemade yourself
a permanent  and dusty
home. i used to hate the
smell  of   my   skin  and
the shape of my   mouth
butyouhaveneverlooked
at me  like i am anything
less than a human being,
anything less than  gold,
anything less than   god.
i   have been yours since
we were fifteen,    i have
been     yours    since we
w e r e             f i f t e e n.

how do you get to a point
when you no longer
recognize the person
you are- when the hands
you've watched every day
become two strangers
hanging on your arms, when
your words taste dry and
sour rolling off your own tongue?
more importantly, how do
you find your way back?

i love that your
hands have touched so
many things- rivers and
valleys and canyons -that
you have made sure the
earth is not your stranger.
please pretend i am the
streets of madrid or the
stone walls of paris.
please know my skin
the way you know how
our planet sighs during
all her seasons. please
love my rivers, my
valleys, my canyons.

i   wish   i
knew  the
right way
toquityou
but   even
think i n g
about     it
makes my
bonesache
help     me
h   e   l    p
myself  t o
s    t   o   p
lovingyou

I swear I've been doing really
okay.  I take  full breaths  and
I've  been sleeping  almost all
the  way  through   the  night.
I   don't  cry   w h e n   I  walk
through  the  l a s t  place  we
kissed  or  the   final    s p o t
where   you   told   me  you
loved me. I can watch your
favorite movie or listen to
yourfavoritebandwithout
falling apart. The antique
mall no longer turns me
i n t o   a   puddle   and
macaroni  and  cheese
only barely reminds
me  of  our   f i r s t
date. But last night
Kaitlyn and I went
to the  river  and I
stood in the same
patch of dirt where
I watched your notes-
all white and stark in the
moonlight-  begin  t h e i r
journey down south. I sat on
the big rock where Kaitlyn and
Chloe held my hands for what felt
like forever until my chest was rising
and falling  like normal (two months
ago almost to the date but god how
was  it not yesterday?) and  there
were  simply stars stars stars as
f a r  as I could  see, and t h i s
little,     tiny,     insignificant
piece  of  me  missed  you.

you and i,
we are open
hearts on
hardwood
floors and
we step lightly
for fear of
unsettling the
room. one
day, though,
we will
no longer
be afraid
and we will
pick up
everything we
left sitting
out, and i
will hand you
all that i
have with
the knowledge
that you will
never drop
it, never lose
it, never take
it for granted.
i like knowing
that someday
i will be safe
with you.

I am
infatuated
with how
you are so
unapologetically
you.

why don't I have a real job how can i
be this scared to go back to school i
want to move away but i can't go to
portland like i wanted to because that
was ryan's thing i wonder if he'll still
move there will he take her or will they
break up before then or maybe they'll
get married and stay here because
eyelit is here which means i definitely
need to move away is he going to
propose with a banjo pick like he did
with me or will he get her a real ring
"you put that on the wrong finger" "i'm
not trying to do that yet" "did you hear
that megan he said 'yet'" i miss your
friends and your mom and i can't
stand that i'm not allowed to talk to
them anymore why didn't you pick me
why didn't you pick me why didn't
you pick me god you told me you
loved me you told me you wanted a
farm and kids and a garden why did
you do this to me i loved you so much
i could have filled the ocean with the
contents of my heart that belonged to
you i hate you i hate you i hate

occasionally i feel a
need to draw you,
to paint the veins in
your arms, to write
you into the margins
of other things i'm
working on. but i let
it sit, i let it stew just
on the edge of my
fingertips and pulsing
in the palm of my
hand until it is less
of an oncoming train
and more like a paper
plane on a playground.
i draw myself, i paint
myself, i write myself
into the margins instead.

there is a softness in the willows aching with
your steps- aching to follow the curve of
your spine to the sharp edges of your
hips, aching to chase the scent that
lingers and trails behind you-
that until three days ago i
did not understand.
there is something
about that slight rise
to your lips as you lean
down over me even after i'm
sure i cannot stand anymore heat
heat heat but i'll take more as long as
you are willing to give it, as long as it means
i do not have to lose the sound of you in all
your actions and late night phone calls.

it smells like
chicago and deep
breathsofyouthaticould
not get enough of,     l i k e
a thanksgiving spent playing
with your hair     while you took
a nap on your grandma's      couch,
like  exploring   your   mouth  on  top
of the parking garage on black friday
between  my two shifts at work, like
telling you goodbye  in my favorite
coffee shop while you drank your
black tea and made promises
promises   promises   that
even then i knew you
could never keep.

i have let you keep me up at night for
too long. there used to be a limit to what i
would allow myself to do- how much i would
allow myself to think of you, to remember your
temperaments and the sound of your footsteps-
but i think i've forgotten what and where that
line was. lately i've been scared to be another
placeholder, scared to get attached to someone
new, scared to understand someone else's hand
gestures. i used to love the way you could paint
our future with your fingertips across the air,
across my skin, across my skin.

i am passing days with only
the slightest       misstep that
before would  have brought
me to            my           knees.

i am willing to help you find all of
your pieces to buy you the tread
and  needle   you'll  need  once
you've gathered them     and i
promise   not to look or make
pained faces while you   put
yourself back together inthe
quiet of    y o u r  basement
bedroom   because i know
what  it means to feel like
you're missing a limb but
the ache is  coming from
somewhere          deeper
deeper                            ­
                           deeper
than you   ever could
have imagined your
chest could   sink it
is so scary to wake
up and not be sure
if your    lungs are
still  connected or
if you're going to
be able to get off
thecouchbecause
you've been too
sad to sleep  in
your  own bed
please    know
that i will not
forceyoutobe
h a p p y   or
give up your
past,     but i
will be here
if you decide
to do those things

If you'd let me
I'd stay on your
couch and listen
to your heartbeat
until I couldn't
hear anymore.

Lately                  my                  brain
has been fuzzy and I don't know
how to tell you in c a s u a l
words that I've got this
c    a    n     y    o    n
in  my  left  lung  in
the shape of your glasses
that t h r o b s  and  deepens
every time you are away from me.
What I mean to say is that I love you so
much it scares me,   that the fact that I
have  to  go  to    bed    without  your
fingers in    reaching   distance is the
main       reason  I  have       trouble
sleeping, that I am  obsessed with
the way your  mouth tastes like
home  and how  your   words
have  promises  of  forever
s e e p i n g  out  of their
endings.   Please  don't
f                                    
a            ­    
       l
                                 l
o u t   of   l o v e
with          me.

my favorite teacher in high school
told me that once  you step  in a
river, you and that river  w i l l
never   be   the   same.   and   i
wonder if we are  l i k e  that
with  each  o t h e r.  do  we
stamp our thumbprints on
people's  chests,  do   w e
never     f o r g e t      the
omnipresent    memory
ofthethings thatwere?
your  t h i n g s   are
swimming in  t h e
gulf of  mexico by
n o w,  i assume-
that     pathetic
letter a b o u t
h o w   y o u
d r e a m e d
you  would
losethelove
of your life
(   m   e   )
forever
(you  did)
is    soaked
and  bleeding
out of its creases-
but i  will  probably
always  remember  the
curve of your mouth and
the sharpness of your laugh.
i do not remember you fondly,
no never fondly, and i only ever
want  to  drink  another  virgil's
rootbeer if i can spit  i t  in your
face  afterward, but i'm  hoping
someday i will   bleed like your
words and god i  will   fly, i can
promise you that. you did   not
break me, you  only taught me
t h a t     hearts,   t h e y     need
styrofoam    fencing-     s o m e
padding but nothing like your
cement  b l o c k s-  and  that  i
deservebetter. ideserveorchids
a n d  sunflowers,   homemade
jam in the middle  of the night
because  us sleeping is out  o f
the question and jesus *******
c h r i s t i deserve a heart that
has nobarriers. i want to bethe
r i v e r,     stampeding    i n t o
someone's life like the scariest
thing they've  ever seen until i
have taught  them  everything
they   could   want   t o   know
a b o u t   the  ramones    a n d
fleetwood m a c  and painting
with  your  eyes  closed. i  just
want     t o    b e     t h e    river.

I have tried to
detach myself
from you but
you have sunk
the deepest
hook into my
stomach that
just turning
away from
you is painful
enough.

there used to be this
seam running through
a cushion on my couch
and i picked it picked it
picked it out of nervous
habit, mostly, and people
were starting to notice it.
i borrowed some thread
from my mom yesterday
and sewed it up, finally.
it felt a little like closure.
it felt a little bit like
goodbye, ryan.

Ultimately
I'm mad at myself
for believing
I could have
someone as lovely
as you.

you always said it
reminded you of
coming home after
your fiancée cheated
on you. today it
reminded me of your
fingers and my favorite
ring. i listened to take offs
and landings the whole
way home. i pinched my arm
through the entire distance
of edwardsville. i drove
in the center lane and
went through smog of
me saying i would have
waited thirty years for you.
i wish there was a
different way home
from lawrence.

you do not fall at my
feet yet you make me
feel that i am golden.

go       d    
at       the
        end       of the      
        night i       am  just      
     looking       simply        
             f o r       someone      
who talks       like      y o u

as much as i don't have my ****
together (as much as i forget to
do my dishes or take out the
trash or breathe regularly) i
would have figured myself
out for you,   would have
taught myself to be tidy
and small, would have
studied   the    art    of
going  a   f u l l   day
without  having  a
panic       attack,
would   h a v e
read   up   on
how  to  get
myself  out
of bed and
i n t o  the
s h o w e r
every  day.
i     haven't
watered my
plants   since
the  first  week
o  f      j  u  n  e.

I like the wildflowers
that grow in the rings
under your eyes and
the meadow that comes
from your lips. More
than anything I want
to swim in the rivers
running down your
arms and make my
home in the safety of
your large hands. I'm
finding it hard to
resist the setting you've
created just for me.