yes, i know your heart may not often feel the whirlwind car-twisting hurricanes that mine does, but i will still listen every time it speaks. its smallest whisper is catastrophic to me. (i know you don't think it says very much at all sometimes, but it does. i listen.)

   even when the leaves fall to kiss
   blades of grass come autumn or
   when i wander down tire-beaten
   dirt roads or when strangers ask me
   questions that i don't know the
   answers to, you will always be a
   thought that blends into my brain.


i tried falling out of this -
i tried to staple and bind my feelings
shut and turn my head the other way,
i tried to let someone else's
face embellish my thoughts
and let someone else ask me
questions while i shoved the words
i'd always wanted to say to you
to the back of my throat.

   i tried;
   i really did.

but you are too intricately woven
through my ribcage for me to unravel,
you've left to many scars on my lungs
from my hammering heartbeat.


and even if you never spoke to me again,
i think you'll always be there
humming under my chest:
"hello, hello, never forget the things
i gave to you."