You don't see me coming yet,
but I have already cleared a drawer for you in my heart.

Our first argument will be about how I hog all the covers in my sleep,
or maybe about how I can never shake away the feeling that I am left
with after a bad dream.

I want you to know that I am other worldly.
Which of course means that I am not from this Earth.
My mind travels to and from other universes and galaxies,
other realms of thought.
But I will try to leave a note reminding you I will return.

For future emergencies-
I keep a bottle of Zoloft in my ***** drawer
and a bottle of wine under the sink.
I am not allowed to take them together.
I hope my episodes won't make you think less of me.

I hope you won't forget the way gravity shifted when we first met.
Tape that memory to the forefront of your mind.
So when I am sobbing uncontrollably about the ending of a movie,
or the last line of a haiku
you will remember why you love me.
And I will do the same for you.

You see, I am not that great at endings.
I am not a person with promising follow through .
I get caught up in the beginning of things,
the middle of things,
the twist and turn
thrashing momentum
of things.

I just can't bare to see it all end.

So when or if it does end,
I ask that you lay me gently down and make your exit swift.
Do not linger by the door frame,
because when you tell me it's over,
that is it.

You don't see me coming yet,
but I want you to know I have had day dreams about our first kiss.
I imagine it like an orchestra inside your chest
and angels begin to sing when you part your lips.
The symphony hits its crescendo when we finally get to the kiss.

You don't see me coming yet,
but soon we will be in love.

Why can't we love how we used to?
Like when we were afraid to look one another in the eyes
because it was too much like staring directly into the sun.
Why don't we move each other how we used to?
Like the dizziness we felt after ******* at sunset
and dancing with the moon.

Do you remember feeling like nothing else could compare?
Do you remember feeling like nothing else existed?

Why can't we grip the arms of time and orchestrate them to our desire?
Why can't anyone else take me higher
than you?

this is my last attempt
at trying to write about you.

i am sorry
that we couldn’t come to a consensus
on how to deal with the damage of
our hearts
or how we left the remnants of our love
scattered across the road like
a drunken car crash
in action.

i just haven’t felt the same
after the tear
of a seatbelt around my neck,
around my chest,
holding me back from the
arms of destruction-
trying to push me to safety
away from anything
that we
were trying to be.

this is the last time
i try to justify it.

i need you to start learning
how to forget me.

you memorized the rhythm of my heart
and tapped it beat
for beat
at my window.

lazy summer nights
when we tasted like
sweat mixed with
honey
and our lips
were unlike split
continents
no
we were more like the sea
gently moving to
the melody of
my heart
beat for
beat.

oh god
i just can’t think about it anymore.
i hate the way everything tastes
the moment you walk out of my door.
nothing ever feels quite so
satisfying
quite as dreamy
as you waking up besides me
and staying.
without fear of what the morning
sun may do to you.
my love,
even if you turn to stone,
i’ll learn every prayer
to bring you back from the dead
and even if i can’t
i will love you as a ghost.
oh god
can’t you see what this doing to me?
i am no longer the person
i told myself i would be
what a crazy sort of jealousy
to envy what will never be.

you have me.

I am sorry for the way
I can’t look at you when I say
That I am sorry,
And I can’t give you anything back.

You built me up like
Your childhood diorama.
All cardboard, glitter
And clay figurines.

When you saw just how quickly
I could tear it all down,
When you realized
Just how crazy I could be -
I’m sorry.

Is it still love if my hands burn
After I touch your face?
If all I am is consumed by you,
Do you really think that’s safe?

I don't want to be
Talked down from this ledge
But I may have to,
But it may not go through
The thickest part of my head
Cause the thinnest is
In the back.

I leave it open and exposed
So when your hands
Wrap behind my neck
You can dive them in
Just to see
How little is really left of me
And how much is being replaced
By you.

You touch me and it doesn’t hurt,
I kiss your mouth
And it starts to burn-
It’s a conditioning practice.

I am ready to learn.