laying in the leaves
on the forest floor
outside of a
suburban neighborhood

i am partially high
and closing my eyes
to avoid the brightness
of the sunlight

for what does the
sun mean
if the leaves still fall,
and what purpose
do my feelings serve
if you do not
feel the same
anymore

i thought that maybe
drugs
alcohol
tears
blood
would finally
pack up the last
few pieces
i had left of you
and sweep them
away
like the leaves
i am cradled by
as the oncoming
breeze
of fall
descends upon
the trees

but the high
makes me feel
lower,
and the buzz
just rattles
the crude stitches
i had hand-sewn
onto my heart

i am drowning
in what is left
of you,
even though it is
only a puddle

i am only
awake
enough to feel
the pain

i drunkenly mutter
i loosely scream
i silently cry

no matter
what state
i am in,
whether i am
solid
liquid
wasted
trashed

there is
still
enough of you
left in me
to make
summer
freeze over
and my
heart
stop
with the sudden
change
in temperature