i just want some sort of sign from you
that you want me to still love you
in two years.

i will sit here and wait for you to come home to me,
i will.

i will wait two long ******* years.


if you wanted me to.


i swear i would;
if you could only swear that you would forgive me

for the hearts that i will have broken while you were away


and i would kiss you
                                             r
                                                    mind and your
                         heart

for being so understanding


it's funny
my hair has stopped falling out

and it feels thicker

                   i want to shave it all off in the bathroom

(with the same razor i used to drag across this wrist)
and put it in a wooden box, and send it to you.

it would just be yours to keep

(sometimes, when i am feeling insane
i take a box cutter at work
and cut my fingertips, just a little bit.
or i take the blood that naturally flows from between my legs
and smear it on the walls of the shower
and on my legs and arms

i lay down under the stream of water
in the same shower where you once made love to me
i let it cover me
and i cry
i cry out for you)




and then maybe months later, i would buy a plane ticket to see you


and it would make you so angry

(because you told me to leave you alone.
you told me to leave you alone
and then you kissed me
and you told me you loved me.
you just don't want to talk to me anymore.
i'm trying so hard to figure out where your words and your actions match up.)

you would of course just send me home
and the plane might  crash down
and in death i would be happy
that you might finally care about me



i wish i could explain to you,
how much i love you.

and how ****** up i am without you here.

and how strong i am without you.

but how weak i feel

and how i want to scream until you hear my voice, miles and miles away

and i cough up blood

and lose my voice

you hear it
and you get in your car,
and you drive into the sunset
and you see the city skyline

just a few minutes from my house

but don't even bother to call

you sit on the side of the road
staring at the cars driving by

concentrating on this decision
then, turn around and drive the two hours back home

didn't even bother to tell me you were here


and i can't even think about our home
the bed we slept in together

because in that little town
in that little room
you were the only thing that made any ******* sense,

and i am a mess now


and so is this p
o
e
m