you think about someone too long listening to a song
and they start to creep their way into the chords,
climb their way up on the staff, find their place in the rests
until there's no where you can't see them. hear them. miss them.

there are a lot of songs I can't listen to anymore
I will never be unsurprised by the injustice that just one person can do
to another by simply trying their best to exist.
I throw out favorite movies and favorite artists and favorite books,
I throw out pieces of me everyday because I can't carry them alone.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't keep us like we wanted.
I'm sorry that we weren't the strong adults we thought,
just small children who tried to make a home in each other's arms.
And maybe you don't feel that way - but when I hear the crooning
of a boy singing about how we were spoons,

I can't help but notice all the scars we left, two knives
pretending that we could never really hurt each other,
getting closer and closer
until there was nothing left to cut.