And I'll run until I can't remember
the weight of your hands on my hips
until I can smell your shampoo
and not wish to run my hands through your hair.

I'll run until I forget
what it was like to stand still and be held
so close to your beating heart.
Until that afternoon
where I was pinned underneath you
fades completely from my memory.

Yes, I'll run and scream and fight
until I can walk beside you
without a heart of lead carving ruts in my wake
without casting glances
and admiring your beauty.
I will rage and burn
until I can see a bougainvillea
without immediately hearing your voice;
your careful singing in my shower,
your laugh, your low, stolen whispers.

And I'll keep weeping and wishing
that there were no kisses to forget,
no notes to burn or keep,
no flowers that crumble in my grasp,
no shirts that smell like you,
no jigsaw hollows where you still fit perfectly.
Wondering how long it will be
before the songs don't make me think of you
before the kitchen is just the kitchen
and my bedroom is just a bedroom.
                               before I fulfill your wish
                               and we are just friends again.

Friends who once snuck off,
held hands,
talked at midnight,
shared a bed (albeit only once)
shared favorite memories,
played guitar in the dark,
laughed at their own shy ways,
almost kissed,
almost became more.

Almost made it.

I will grind myself to dust,
if only it makes it easy to swallow
the bitter break of a first love,
a stolen heart, returned only to shatter
in my grasp. We hugged quickly, spun apart
when all I wanted is to cry and hold you
the way a dying man clings to the lifeboat.