I'm sure by this point I have
exploded and expanded,
breached countless lines
and crossed several borders,
wrote my name in the
clouds with yours following
it just to see what it would
look like strung out like
that. I want to be purple
and green (and blue so
you'll notice me) and as
orange as the third inner-
most layer of the sun. Please
pay attention to me. It's
the least you could do to
pay me back for the way I
have been overwhelmed
by you for this long.

I remember the first
time we kissed in
your living room on
one of the hottest
days in June. You
spun me in a circle
to the sound of that
new French record
you had just bought
and then you pulled
me to you
quietly
gently
and with a fire in every
crevice of my body
I said, "You're
tall. I like that." You
ran your thumb down
my ear, whispered,
"I like you" into my
forehead.

If you're reading this
if you're   seeing this
if you're hearing this
just  know   that  this
is  about that   t i m e
(the        last        time)
you grabbed my face
with  both   hands  in
the    stockroom   and
kissed me.  Just know
that t h i s is about the
first night  I fell asleep
in  that bed with your
nose pressed  into my
n e c k       and  how  I
haven't    slept    since.
Just    k n o w    this  is
about how the curve of
your     bottom    lip    is
imprinted   in  the   back
of my dreams on the rare
nights  that  I  do,   about
how  I  like to   r u n   my
fingers  on  my    forearm
because if I     f l e x     it a
certain way it feels a little
like    yours.    Just   know
that this is about the parts
of me I let   you  have and
how I don't   w a n t  them
back,  about  how  I  really
have been  trying to move
on but it's  g o t t e n     me
nowhere  except  dead end
roads or  t r a i l s  that stop
with  me  not  being able to
sleep in my   bed   anymore
because  I  shared  it     with
someone  who  wasn't  you.
This is about how I am still
in    love    with   you,   will
always be in love with you,
cannot  figure   out  how  to
stop being in love with you.
If     you're      reading    this
if   you're   s e e i n g       this
if     you're       hearing    this
I  miss  you.  C o m e    back.

I haven't figured out how to
even begin to sew myself
back together because
I swear there are
pieces  o f   me
scattered all
over  this
town.
I
think
I  l e f t
most   of
them   o n
y o u r  front
porch yesterday
but then there are
some in Lawrence and
Overland Park and I don't
know how to find them. I don't
want to be happy with someone else,
Ryan. You are the only person who has
ever looked at my  heart  (so mangled
and disfigured by hollow promises)
and still wanted to keep it. I will
never  ask  for  it  back,  I  can
guarantee you that, so you
might as well get used to
the sound of it aching
for you from under
your bed and in
the    back    of
your closet.