I breathe like your laugh
is taking up all the air
in my apartment, like
maybe I'll **** in a story
you left buried under a
blanket in the corner,
like all I have left of you
is a few endings to a
couple of sentences
whispered into my ear.

i'm slowly digesting
the reality of you.

i still think of you
when i'm drunk.
i still stare at your number
in my phone,
my heart trying to convince
my brain to dial,
but my brain always winning,
reminding the heart
of how that number has
hurt you and hit
you and made you ashamed
to be who you are.

today i'm not ashamed
and i'm not afraid
and i'm not angry,
not unforgiving
not naive
not sad.
not even a little
bit.
not even at all.

tell me what keeps you awake at 2 am
whether it’s the girl who took the knife of her absence and stabbed it into your sternum
or the loneliness that swallows your skin

play the one song which releases the floodgates in your eyes
and let me listen to it over and over again
until i find which line makes your heart drop to your stomach

describe the story of your body to me
tell me of the invisible scars too
and with each detail you describe
i will make a map
so i know which road bumps to avoid
or which holy sites to fall to my knees and kiss the ground of

remember that
i wear a mask brimming with self confidence and an armor of words that are both easy to tear for they were thin like tissue to begin with
i am sensitive
taking to hurt the way a sponge absorbs water

do not hide me behind closed doors or keep me entrapped in bed sheets
when you walk past me, do not pull your hood over your head and avert your gaze
i need you to look at my eyes as if they illuminated the entire world
and kiss my lips as if they are what allow you to breathe

open the door.
bring me flowers.
because the only boy who did either was my 5th grade boyfriend

be willing to meet my family and friends
for they were the ones who created the marble statue whom you marvel at today

take note of how my heart is a reflection of myself
how she is too kind and will kiss the same man who tore her in two
so please do not say words which will make her wings flutter
if you are not ready to be the nest she flies to

let me know that me, as myself, i am enough
that i do not need to be a chameleon
dipping myself in new colors each day to please you

remember the little things about me
like how my first phrase i uttered was shut up to a man in an elevator or the delight i take in handwritten letters and mix CDs, or the significance of my first tattoo
because everything about you is being etched into the walls of mind
so that i can never forget

trace your fingers with a loving tenderness over my scars from the times i transformed my body into a crucifix
pinning my hands and feet onto a cross out of habit
thinking love was a word synoymous with self sacrifice

you must learn my language
know what zips my lips into silence
know the difference between when i want to give up versus when i will actually do so
and be there to hold me when the seams start to unravel

if you want me to love you
know that many have tried and failed
that people like me are not meant to be soft
if you want me to love you
know that to me
love is not a word you spit out of your mouth and juggle in your hands
you need to promise that our love won’t be like an hourglass
for my body has been disfgured enough from the times my chest turned inside out from the pang of abadonment
if you want me to love you
reaffirm my body is a kindgom, my heart is the treasure, and that i am your queen
paint pictures for me in what you do and say
telling me i am worthy to be loved, worthy to be kept, and worthy to stay

but if you really want me to fall in love with you
tell me what you see right before you close your eyes at night to fall asleep
and if you tell me it’s me
i will fall unfathomably further for you than i already have

Let me tell you something.
Even as I sit here alone
away from everything
that reminds me of your existence
[that street we used to walk down,
the variety store I saw you at on New Years,
and the restaurant you used to work at],
I think of you.
And when I close my eyes
to escape all of my realities
[such as you ending things
and making
the something we had
seem like nothing],
I involuntarily recreate
memories of you.
The thing that I've realized
about life is that
almost everything changes.
The seasons, the tide, the moon
and I know inevitably
that you are changing too.
Yet the only thing
that seems to have remained constant
are my thoughts of you.

I dreamed I was
on your couch
and you gave me
that white blanket
I love and you
played with my
fingers and kissed
me on my temple
just like always
and your eyes
did that little
crinkly thing I
look forward to
when you laugh
and you said,
"I've missed you
so much."
And I woke up
and reached out
to find you, but
I found I was
in my own bed
in my own room
in my lonely apartment.
I don't want to go
back to sleep.