there is a certain form of victory in realizing that you were not the first thing on my mind when I woke up. I want to say I've moved on but I still have to say your name through gritted teeth and it still hurts every bone in my body you used to give chills upon. I guess there are traces of you everywhere and it is going to take a long time before I am clean. but I've come to the realization that the world continues to move no matter what happens, oblivious to the sound of your footsteps when you left, to the rough thud of my heart that fell to my stomach when I saw you wrapping your arms around her and to the gentle crumbling of my bones when I slid down the wall crying, battered and worn-out. the wind was strong at the beach where we left our secrets in the shells we threw back into the ocean, and we kept each other's biggest one, but the wind is also strong at the balcony of my house where I sit trying to turn my pain into something poetic and when it gusts through the windows to your bedroom when you wake up without my morning calls; I guess what I'm trying to say is that the sun is still giving way to the moon every night for the past 315 days and the wind is burning into my eyes, making me remember the way your shirt waved in the wind that day at the beach, and embedded your scent into my senses. but someday, I will be able to stand looking at the sunset, the wind carrying my laughter and the world would not be the only thing moving; I am too.

Is there tear gas in this room?
Because I can't stop crying
The gas crawls down my esophagus
And crushes my wounded heart.

“God this hurts”

I keep typing,
Praying to computer screen
That I'll forget the smell of your hair
I type till my fingers bleed
So I can forget what your touch feels like
How our lips fit perfectly together.

“God I hate myself”

The only phrase I think of
When I'm pleading for things to back to normal
Back to the days
Where you didn't want to to crack open my skull
And see all of the ugly things
That drift around my cranium

“Baby please I'm sorry. I’m a mess,
A klutz, who waltzes around with stupidity
Baby I get this feeling in my head
When you are not around
I want to keep writing you these love letters
By sliding them under your doors called your eyelids”
But I can’t

I sit alone in the bus called life
Looking across my seat
I see you, my love
Holding onto the bar
Your pretty Blue headlights
That make me drawn to you
Your pretty Blue headlights
Covered with the rain I caused
I'm a rain man,
you see, when people get close to me
I get scared
And force the skies rain to tears with pain.


The only thing that floats in my mind
Is that I hope the man of you life
Buys you flowers
Sunflowers especially
And shows up to your work unexpectedly.
I hope you can travel to Paris
and keep a long list of all of the countries
you've cuddled in.
With him.
I hope you he can handle seeing the stars
From your eyes every time you guys cuddle
Under the moon light.
I hope he can teach you how to slow dance
And I hope that he can teach me
On how to be a better man.

I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.

I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.

but i wish your hands are on fire
every time you touch another one
of your lies