i miss him like the last train leaving from the station with no money in my pocket, just this long-winded poetry that has left its claws in me, in us.
he is everything i can't quite mold into metaphors or syllables below the surface. you were right when you said i was in over my head but i've been checking these walls for a way out since the day i forgot how to feel and he came to me like footholds carved in the cement.
i miss him like reading my favorite book for the very first time, i miss him like childhood and holidays and the longest day of summer, when the temperature rose like the fever i had broke when i was sick with butterflies and cheesy love songs.
Do I miss him? The answer is yes.
She asked me if it was worth it:
i'm reminded of the passenger seat of your car where you taught me it was okay to be happy for no reason, to be in love with the life you were given simply because there's things like the smell of a memory and homemade pizza and the 20 questions game.
the way your eyes can tell stories and your hands can plea bargain and I knew from that day on that it takes true lovers to be silly.
If I could trade days of dreaming for seconds of spooning I would do in a hummingbird heartbeat because a day without you is like a year without rain, & I'm living in a drought. But the very moment your chest welcomes my shivering lungs, I can feel myself exhale, and the weeks of hydration suddenly become sacrificial.