You never left in mind, only
Body .

Shoddy job,
Too.

One minute there,
Next minute gone.

Gone
For minutes long.

The days.
The daze.

The haze in this valley
Couldn't hide the moon,
Only amplify it.

Just like you.

Its too late and I think I need a drink.
Something that will make my throat burn.
At this point I don't even care if its coffee or *****.
I just want to sit here and let my mind blur.
Flash me pictures of my past or give me a glimpse of the future.
Just show me something.
Because when I look out my window all I see is black.
Maybe that's what I need to see right now.
I guess that's okay.
Just like I guess 2500 miles isn't that far away.

my favorite poem was always her silence,
even after god stopped screaming & the cries from the tires screeching only occupied the ears of the young & the dead,
lovely to know that no matter what happens in this life, life will never give back,
as always i'm feeling stuck inbetween her mind & her heart, but never her thighs (& that was okay),
neither of us had loved each other to our full potential,
i was terrified, & for some oddly beautiful reason nothing could even make her flinch,
eventually the ocean will go bad, just like our hearts.

life doesn't owe you anything, it has no debt to you or your cold soul,
you have to believe my words when I tell you that I only feel sadness everytime I realize that her name has now just become an acronym & everything she once said to me was now drowning somewhere, in some ocean, screaming out someone else's name to help save her,
no, don't believe me,
no, don't believe anything I ever say (she never did).

reducing my bank account to the day of the month that she strangled my heart with her two bare hands, that way everytime I look at my bank funds I can feel the same type of struggle that my heart felt that very night,
evolution did her good, just like all the other boys between her thighs nowadays,
you only live once is the biggest lie to ever enter my ear drums; i've looked into her eyes & have spoken with demons that died thousands of years ago that still reside inside my sweet angel,
now my phone is crying for her call & the same goes for me,
only time can mend a deceased heart,
live alone & you will die with a thousand burdens that you wish you would have gotten off your chest, yet live for someone else & you will die with a thousand burdens that you wish you would have gotten off your chest,
doubtfully kiss my lips & you will finally, fully understand that she didn't take only my heart with her that night,
sporadically trying to find out if I could at least have my hands back; they might be a little burnt from all of the times I reached for her heart, but I miss the sting when trying to close my fists & the burn of her lips on them as she puckered up to the open wounds that she didn't even know she had created.

and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it

Time does not exist
Or so I am told
An artificial instrument
created by man
As it turns
the Earth shrugs it's shoulders
She doesn't know what to think either

Time is not linear
That is what I hear
Everything has already happened
and is happening at the same time

So...wait.

I imagine it like one gigantic explosion
Our lives play out
Everything happens separately and at once
My ten year old self and my eighty year old self are one in the same
I have heard that

There are some people I wish I could talk to again
The ten year old smiles and continues the conversation
I sit here and think that if everything has happened and is happening all at the same time

Then

I am still having those conversations
with Living Ghosts