he told me he finally understood why i wrote about things that have never happened
he said it was because of all the lives i've lived.
i see everything in colors,
the nuns throat turning purple from screaming prayers,
the boys body turning black and blue by his fathers drunken hand,
the girl going home late at night, a heart beating and bleeding red. heartbroken.
but i remember him in every lifetime.
the hands on my clock developed arthritis
and my watch went into a coma.
forever stuck on the last time i saw him.
it has been 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 since we made love and he said 'i love you'.
and every 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 i've asked myself if i could have done anything to make that love stay.
i have laid awake in every lifetime with my phone in my hand,
like a poised snake waiting for a text that will never come.
but i guess i shouldn't overthink a text message.
if i over thought every unanswered text message i wouldn't have time to overthink anything else.
i have created a nest out of every soul.
crawled inside every empty cavity of the ribcages that were available.
swam in all of the collarbones and hips that i could find.
but you can't make homes out of human beings.