"I love you"
is stuck
behind my
sternum,
lodged there for so
long now that I'm
afraid the words
may have lost
their
meaning.

I am
infatuated
with how
you are so
unapologetically
you.

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.

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

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 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.

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.

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.

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

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?

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.

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

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.

You
will always
be the reason
I don't think I'm
good enough but I
know I'm better than I
was four years ago. And
I think I'll spend the rest of
my life trying to prove to you
I'm bigger than how you made
me feel.

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.

For
some
reason
this rain is
making me
miss you
less
.

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.

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.

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

Your hands are like the
leaves falling from the trees and
I just can't catch them.

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

I know that you tried
so hard but leaps and
bounds only mean
something if what you
land on isn't scrap metal,
isn't the hammer and
nails you used to spell
"MEGAN YOU ARE
BEAUTIFUL" on every
wall you knew I could
see until there were no
blank surfaces left and
I wasn't paying attention
anymore and you decided
to tear the words down
because I took them for
granted. I'm so sorry I
thought the ways you
knew how to love me
weren't right.

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

i wanted it all- your
picket fence promises
and the daisies on the
last   digit   of   your
f   i   n  g   e   r   s

my journal is two
inches thick with
words about your
eyes and I wonder
if you love me
that much.

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.

god, you
said something like
"this just makes our story
more interesting" and
up until that moment
I had thought you'd
given up on writing
new chapters with
me.