i have racked my mind
trying to figure this whole thing out
the staying, the going
the threads we claim hold us here
& the people who've stopped to play a tune on them
i sometimes relate it
to waking up in waist deep snow
in our former selves
the us we wish we could give one another
the children we've sat on the shelves
trapped, like the looks
we leave behind in snow globes
i sometimes imagine ships
dragging the bottom to the sea of "me"
for sleep & pieces of my old self
to sell to the new one
like history doesn't repeat itself
it gets me wondering
if you too want an apology from the rain
or if you dream of burning family photo albums
and wearing the ashes like perfume
if you're anything like me
how i hope god chokes
on memories of me blowing out candles as a child
i know i shouldn't reference my reader  
but don't you know, the only difference
between alone & lonely is you?
that if my hands could talk
the only thing they'd be able to say
is "dear god we've missed you"
and how can you tell me it isn't love
when even the rain refuses to fall
in places where i've kissed you
i remember the day
you found my smile at a yard sale
it reminds me of how you'll leave
i wonder if when you go
you'll tell yourself
the person in the rear view mirror
is closer than they appear

these thoughts you're having
they aren't actually real
i'm lying on the couch in my therapist's office
she didn't notice i nodded off
how does that make you feel?
you have to be ******* kidding me
she isn't kidding
i sit up on the couch
i didn't think people actually asked that
asked you "how you feel" about everything
she stares in silence
what do you want me to say?
she pursed her lips in preparation to speak
i cut her off
you know how i ******* feel?
i feel ******
i'm pretty messed up over all of this
i hate it
i hate that even the way
she ******* looks at me
brings me to my knees
i take a breath
i'm sorry
i'm sorry i'm so angry all the time
you shouldn't apologize for how you feel
but i can't stop apologizing
somedays i wake up &
i feel my heart beating slower
my heart is so heavy with guilt
over something i know i couldn't control
& all i can think about is
how ******* sorry i am
i hang my head down
i can't even look at my feet anymore
because i hate where they are
i hate that they're not next to hers
i pause
do you know what it's like
missing someone so much
that you can't catch your breath
when you think of them?
she doesn't answer
i guess it doesn't matter because
that isn't even close
to how much i miss her
what do you miss about her?

You were losing your ****
Over some stupid homework
("No, not homework, study!
You need to study too!")

You were unaware
That I had been sulking
About a body
Not matching a mind

I was paralysed in my bed
And you were helpfully telling me
All about my laziness
All about my life
Or there lack of

Well, I haven't been motivated
To do much lately
Other than ransack my room
For possible compressors

But in the end
You only wanted
To compress my mind
My "mindset"

You say that you love me
And you believe yourself
But do I?
Oh, of course I do

But I can not tell you
How good it feels
To hear them say my name
And mean it

It rolls off of his tongue
Skips out of her lips
And I feel at peace
I feel at home

Funny how I feel the least at home
With family
But what's a family without love?
Unconditional love?

If you love me
Let me go
I promise that I will return
As long as you let me blossom

You see
You fell in love with a caterpillar
Mistook it for a worm
I'm tired of being so pink
It's time to set me free

Cacoons can not be paused
They're created with a purpose
I'm afraid that this time
The changes are irreversible

Yes, I am going to change
But when that butterfly appears
Before your tear-filled eyes
You must realise
That it's still me

do you ever wonder
about the difference between
looking at something
and the hallucination created
when looking past it?
if you look at your hand
it's all you can see
but if you look past your hand
there are now two of them
sometimes it's hard for me
to remember which is real
it gets me thinking
about how my father
used to wake me up
in the morning by rubbing
his stubble across my face
i spent my 11th birthday
under the assumption
that he might come back
if i drank his aftershave
like maybe if i could turn blue
if i could be his favorite color
on our bathroom floor
he would forget why he left
the paramedics were all sobing
as they pumped memories
out of my stomach
i coughed up the day the post-it note with your new address on it
burned a hole in our refrigerator
coughed up the day
the divorce papers came
and my mother
took a baseball bat to the mailbox
i've been choking on the splinters
for 17 years
it's been 17 years
since the last dinner plate
exploded on our dining room wall
17 years since my mother
started accidentally setting your place at the dinner table
17 years since italian night
at the restaurant on the corner
where the juke box
spat tired music
and like so many other things
it stopped working when you left
i guess it's no coincidence
since the juke box went quiet
that the cds in my car
only skip on "i miss you"
i've been hemorrhaging memories
for so long
and now that i'm looking back
i can no longer tell
the mirage from the truth
sometimes i swear
you showed up to my graduation
and last time
i was at your apartment
i can't remember
if the imprints of my hands
are in clay hanging on your wall
or if they were left in the mud
the day god had the audacity
to let it rain
or maybe it's like the time
i saw someone crying on a bridge
now that i think about it
i can't remember if it was me

ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
   *stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
   stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
   stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends