When for whatever reason we stop talking
And it’s been hours since I last heard you
I start to get antsy and walk upstairs and back
As if I’m expecting someone to show up
But you never do because
You’re too far away and working and
I find beauty in the strangest things like
Wanting to see you again
But not knowing
Which room is yours and panicking
Because I don’t want to knock on the wrong door
So I’m running down the hall staring at the numbers
Trying to make some synapse connections
It’s like I’m a starving kid
Who keeps on checking an empty fridge
Expecting the scenery to change from the last open
Only it’s not a fridge, just my empty chest since
I have no need for a heart or lungs
Because my heart’s always broken and my breath always lost
And I’m still running circles on the staircase
Trying to remember which floor I need to be on
To be on the level
But I can’t understand how they go from twelve to fourteen
It’s as if the other floors muscled out the thirteenth
Because it was home to too many bad memories
And domestic disputes
Now my eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of my head
And the corridors go on forever
But when my legs finally give out and I collapse on the floor
I will be sprawled out before your feet