life is a game and it appears i am just a toy
one of the many play-pieces others use to their advantage
and when i grow useless
too tattered to be tossed around any longer
i am discarded
until i can mend myself again
make myself whole again
make myself useful again
wash, rinse, repent, repeat
Thinking Of You

there is no poetic way i can think to say i miss you
i could start with saying it straight
i miss you
i miss you
i miss you
there is no metaphor
no simile
nothing to liken this deepest pain to
there is no missing you in the abstract
there is no missing you
without saying it straight
i miss you
i miss you
i miss you
i miss you when you show me you’re still here
but so far out of reach that any effort to try to get to you
is rendered useless
i miss you when you show me you’re sorry for leaving me like this
but so far from coming back that there’s nothing i can do but accept it
i miss you when
i miss you when
i miss you when i go to sleep
leaving me only to see you for those fleeting moments in my dreams i
miss you when i wake up
ripping me from the only moments i can share with you now i
miss you in the middle of the day
at the worst times
at the most inconvenient times
i miss you when it storms down hard and heavy
sometimes it feels like you’re miserable
other times it feels like you apologizing
you have nothing to be sorry for
you have everything to be miserable over
but i still miss you
and i wish
i didn’t need to
i wish
i could see you again
without hurting you

i'm left to wonder;
if i call your name again
will you answer me?

if i yell your name
will i be met with silence,
or will you appear?

if i cry your name
will you soothe me like before,
or leave me to weep?

if your name happens
to claw its way from my throat
will you make me tea?

to ease this soreness?
to rid me of this anguish?
will you add honey?

when you get a cut
and blood starts to pour from the injured area
can it be described as your life escaping you?
i feel in all the time i’ve spent breathing
i’ve spent most of it trying to bandage up
wounds that have nearly kept me from doing so
when in fact
there has been no purpose to this
no matter how i delay the process
the inevitable waits just around the corner
taunting
teasing
tantalizing
so maybe one day
i’ll grow too tired to replace these bandages
maybe one day
i’ll let the wounds run their natural course
and maybe one day
i’ll let life escape me without a fight
but until then
i’ll dress the wounds
one by one
and hold on to what i have
until what i have
becomes too much to hold

but there is nothing left to write about
i’ve exhausted all the colorful ways to describe loss
smeared yellow paint in places it shouldn’t touch
to describe this most hollow feeling
that can only truthfully be painted grey
and i feel
that if i keep writing
i’ll run out of ways to say i’m hurting
run out of poetic ways to phrase my pain
run out of ways to detach myself from this reality
run out of time and place and keep
running
until i’ve run out of what i once thought was endless

i got comfortable
i was foolish
i let you slip
between my fingertips
i didn’t know
i didn’t know
i was so naïve
so enraptured by
my careless thoughts
and dreams
of a lifetime with you
that i forgot
a lifetime is shorter than a long time
is shorter than forever
is shorter than expected
i don’t know what i expected
but it wasn’t this
and oh, how i miss
the gentle sound of your voice
the sway of your body
the sparkle in your eyes
you
you
you
i’m sorry

i stayed up through the night
and watched the moon get chased across the sky
and watched as the serenity of night
brought forth the bleakness of day
in all its empty whites
bitter blues
and tired greys
there’s something to be said about a sunrise
in which the sun is nowhere to be found