it feels odd trying to keep you alive through words pulled from my memory. but i don’t now why language always fails me when i need it most. i’m not drunk enough yet to miss you properly like i usually do.
when sea otters sleep they hold hands so they don’t float away from one another whilst dreaming, but while i sleep my phantom hand reaches for yours. on those nights i wake up in a panic because your hand is nowhere to be found. the only thing that calms me is going outside and saying ‘i love you’ as loud as i can in hopes that the heavens can hear me. when i see a star twinkling i know someone is saying it back. so suddenly, i don’t feel as alone.
during the day i am trying to learn how to be an adult who pays her own bills, drinks coffee, and doesn’t cry at words like ‘i think i just want to be friends’. i just want to believe i have the capability to make someone happy, but i know i don’t and thats kind of like religion isn’t it?
i should have been in california by now and you should have been graduating this year but you’re not and i’m not so thats why i don’t really believe the doctors when they say i’m getting better. i still read the last message you sent me on facebook before you blocked me. you said i could talk to you about anything whenever i need to. so i guess what i’m trying to say is, nows that time.

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he told me he finally understood why i wrote about things that have never happened
he said it was because of all the lives i've lived.
i see everything in colors,
the nuns throat turning purple from screaming prayers,
the boys body turning black and blue by his fathers drunken hand,
the girl going home late at night, a heart beating and bleeding red. heartbroken.
but i remember him in every lifetime.
the hands on my clock developed arthritis
and my watch went into a coma.
forever stuck on the last time i saw him.
it has been 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 since we made love and he said 'i love you'.
and every 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 i've asked myself if i could have done anything to make that love stay.
i have laid awake in every lifetime with my phone in my hand,
like a poised snake waiting for a text that will never come.
but i guess i shouldn't overthink a text message.
if i over thought every unanswered text message i wouldn't have time to overthink anything else.
i have created a nest out of every soul.
crawled inside every empty cavity of the ribcages that were available.
swam in all of the collarbones and hips that i could find.
but you can't make homes out of human beings.

I have spent time in many beds on
friday nights with boys who have
never learned my last name.
hoping to find love between their sheets.
but they can see my rainforest eyes
are filled with violent secrets
and a thirst for red wine.
they always leave me for the
girls with a more gentile voice and
stronger arms.
there is a lonely hum in my brain
where your name used to be.
as if i was in an accident
and the only part of my brain that was effected
was the part storing my memories of you.
i can’t go back anymore. not ever.
not since that night you said goodbye
instead of goodnight.
i didn’t notice until now. 8 months later.
when it was too late.

you have asked me to be soft like the belly of a fish exposed to a knife.
but i can’t. for i am as violent as lightening and as destructive as a tsunami.
causing a collision between me and everything i come in contact with.
i want to be an unlocked house in a neighborhood of robbers.
maybe i don’t know what will happen tomorrow
and maybe that scares me to the point where i can’t breathe.
my fist is roughly the same size as my heart.
sometimes i punch the wall or the box of things you left in my room just to test my heart
and everytime, i can feel my ribs breaking from all the things i wish i could say to you that i locked between the empty cavity of my chest 6 months ago when you left

the thought of her running her hands through your hair makes me nauseous.
she doesn't know that you hate it when people touch your face
because of your scars.
she's going to try to sleep with you. but she doesn't know that you won't unless you're sure that you love her.
eventually she'll find out that your lips are soft like the belly of a peach.
and when she does she'll kiss you over and over again.
she's slowly going to get drunk off of the way you walk
and it'll make her so dizzy you have to carry her to your car.
you'll buy her flowers and she'll thank you and say she loves them.
but as soon as she gets home she'll put them in a vase and forget to water them until it's too late.
but i guess if she makes you happy, i'm happy.
(not really because i still love you)

i miss the sound of your voice but i guess the rain tapping on my window will suffice for tonight.
we haven't seen each other for months now and i was calling to say that this morning when i was getting my bagel, that song you told me reminded you of me came on, and i wanted to cry because, because -
well,
you know why.

and, i guess i'm calling because only you understand
how that would break my heart.

if my alarm clock was the sound of your voice the snooze button would collect dust.
nobody will ever be to me what you were and still are.

i'm trying to save up my money. to leave. to be free.
not afraid of being moved anymore. of packing everything and leaving.
with nothing but a wool coat and a pocket with a folded up address inside.
wishing i could do that with you one day.

sometimes it gets quiet enough to hear the emptiness of my bed without you.
i had a dream the other night that you and i were on a train. we were on this train and you were holding my hand.
thats the whole dream, you were holding my hand,
and i felt you holding my hand.
i woke up and i couldn't believe it wasn't real.

i've forgotten almost everything about you already, except that
your skin was soft, like the belly of a peach, and
how you would laugh,
making fun of me for the way i pronounced words,
or just your big brown eyes.
yes. your eyes.