I want your fingers to sink into me like stones; I want your weight to hold me down like anchors.
I want your breathing hitched like carriages, I want you pulling at my hair like reins.

I want to know what it sounds like for you to say my name with every inflection, in every tone.
I want to know what it looks like when you drift off to sleep.

You must make a decision,
but you are suffocating
and time is running thin.

It's as if you are an astronaut:
one hundred feet away from your shuttle,
and the oxygen tank on your back
is empty.

It's like you are a captain:
pulled under the abysmal blue water
as your ship of the line is submerged
and your legs are tangled in the sails.

But really,
you are a young boy sitting a park bench
next to the girl from the schoolyard
with whom you fell madly in love.

The decision you must make:
Are you going to kiss her?

Reach the shuttle with mere seconds to spare.
Free yourself from the ******* of a sinking ship.

so we undressed
and I didn't finish
and you felt self-conscious
and refused to read to me
like you did the night before
so I didn't sleep
but you did
and your brow was a shelf
and I wiped it off
like I did the night before
so the morning would feel clean
yet I missed a spot
and you said no one loved like me
and that wasn't a good thing
like a songbird that was more showboat
so I'm sorry lukewarm newspapers
and two wine glasses
and too empty
and you bit my lower lip until blood was drawn
like a misery, like a static radio song
so I bit your lower lip until blood was drawn
but that wasn't an anchor
but that wasn't a tether
but that wasn't criminal
like the soap operas and the 51st shade of grey
so we undressed
and turned on the history channel
and it didn't go anywhere
and you said history was for the historians
like ******* was for lovers
so we dressed
and you were a child in my clothes
and I talked down to you
and you took one last drink of my cologne
like a closing hymn collapsing on a dime

when I asked you what happened last night
you said. “Nothing”
I asked you why
is there a used ******
nestled neatly in the space between
my bed. and wall
You don’t look me in the eye when you say
“We had ***”
because you know. “We”
didn’t have ***.
after you fed me a fifth shot
of the liquor you brought
you watched me spill over and
swooped in
to drink your fill

Have you ever had a moment when you were
right where you should be?

     I've just had a day.

i think maybe i
brought you into my life to
turn you into words.

i want to tell you that i hate you.
i want to say that you were a mistake,
that you were something i regret.
that i wish we had never met and
never talked in the first place.
i want to tell you that i
wish we were never anything,
if we were anything to start.

but you're done with hearing from me.
sick of hearing sad stories.
tired of hearing tired apologies.
and i know you almost want to fix it,
but you always decide against it.
you stop replying.
you hit "ignore."
you delete your inbox.

i guess the lesson i've learned
is that i can't change the past.
i can't always fix what's broken -
especially when i'm the broken thing.
and i think that i might be okay with this.
i just wish you weren't roadkill in the process.
it'd be so nice to have you among the living.

you are so ****** in the head.
they say "crazy can't see crazy"
but, baby, i looked you dead in the eyes,
and man, someone stirred your brain with a fork.
cerebellum penetrated by tines.
amygdala spooned into their mouths like lukewarm soup.
sliced a knife straight through your hypothalamus.
left the rest to swirl around in that thick skull of yours.

you're used goods, they told me.
you passed your expiration date.
a little too ripe around the edges.
i could see that.
you asked people to palpate your skin,
like checking cantaloupe.
you spit out your seeds in between
inhaling smoke and ******* down liquor.

she warned me that you were a wild one.
rebellion and fierce independence.
all lions and tigers and bears,
sutured together with wolfish teeth
and hyena laughter.
forever breaking out of cages
and biting the hands that fed you.

now if only you could see it too.
or if only i'd saw it earlier.