When I don't call for weeks,
remind me of the nights I stayed up
to tell you what love feels like.
Remind me of the way the sun came through the tops of the trees
and hit our twinned-skin as we pedaled through the park.
Remind me of your terrible jokes
(you won't have to).
When I don't want to come home for Christmas,
remind me of all the times you wanted to sit with me
but would never say it.
Of all the things you never understood about me
that I'd never explain (even when you asked)
Like how I cried when we left New York
And why I hated Dad for so long.
Remind me that we're friends.
Remind me that through gritted teeth, clenched fists, and rolling eyes,
I love you

I have you
all the good parts
none of the bad
but I still cry myself to sleep

Why hasn't my reflection grown thinner
Why is nothing fulfilling
Why do my addictions grow
Why do I still feel dead
Why haven't my thoughts turned pretty

Why haven't you fixed me?
Can anyone fix me?

I'm thinking about you a little bit.
Okay, a lot.
Maybe because your lips were the last to touch mine
(6 days ago) (and counting)
Or maybe because you tried to Skype me from your roof last night.
That was sweet of you.
But also
so very representative
of your lack of  l o g i c  &  r e a s o n.
You worry me.
Did you know that?
Maybe.
Maybe I think about you because you're great at ***.
I'd like that to be the reason.
But it isn't.
Because now when I think about you I don't think about *******.
****.
I think about when you kissed me in that stupid deli.
I think about when you danced with me down Boylston.
And how you always tell me to smile
And how, for some reason, that makes me want to frown.
And how being with you makes me want to tell someone I love them.
But not necessarily you…
And how you inspire me to create things. Anything.
Like stream of consciousness poetry. So thank you.
But then again
This didn't turn out very well, did it?

The idea of a fat rain drop smacking my shoulder blade is
both wildly unsatisfying and
much sweeter than the slice of a blade across my forearm.
But in the real world
Raindrops don't bruise
don't damage
don't break the skin like my glistening friend can.
I never understood the sad girls,
thick, black eyeliner running down,
who cut.
Until now.
And maybe I haven't yet
Maybe I never will.
But the sting of the knife would be so much more tangible
Than the ache I feel
Every time
I think about how you aren't here.

In the warm, dark morning
I wake up before you
Opening my eyes to your empty walls
Nearly forgetting your body breathing next to mine

I turn to watch you sleep
Warming your bare back with my gaze
Eyes like planes crossing an ocean of cold sheets between us
A chasm of desires met by deflections

I will you to dream of me
So you might wake up and say last night's words
With the still mind and even tongue of a Sunday
Let me know I'm not the only one losing this game

In my mind I shake you awake
Show you the urgency I feel to touch you
Because I already miss you in the future
Minutes slipping like your big shirt down my sad shoulders

In this tired, familiar bed
I stop waiting for you, shut my eyes again
And think how I could love you later
If you'd let me

If you could resist that warmth that reaches across states for you
From golden lights and people meant to absorb you,
And return to cold bones that I guess were always meant
To break under the weight of your exit

It stings to talk about beginnings
When we are so close to the end

I.
I must have waited by that window for ten minutes
Stomach in knots, heart pounding
Tugging at my clothes
Freshening my breath
Storing away topics of conversation
Hoping you'd like me
Hoping you'd kiss me

You couldn't find my house
So I came and found you.
I got in your car.
We drove away
And I've loved you ever since.

II.
I must have been waiting by the window for ten minutes
Stomach in knots, heart pounding
Wiping up my tears
Steadying my breath
Racing through things I want to say
Hoping you'll stay
Hoping you've missed me

You walk through my door
Take back your T-shirt
You get in your car
Drive away
And you don't take me with you.

III.
How long will I have to wait at this window
Until you come back to me

All night it was off. We were off.
But maybe you couldn't tell

You were glowing in an instant
I could feel you trying so hard
Whisking me away to quiet piers
Dancing your cigarette lips across mine
While we strolled through the rest of beat up, built up, Brooklyn.

That was the first night I felt beyond you.
You with your big heart on your fair trade sleeve
Affection sewn into all your fibers.
I grazed your chest with my fingertips
Only to organize you into stanzas and scenes
syllables and scripts.

"I really like you."
"I really like you too."
But it wasn't the same thing.
"Even though I'm a Cancer?"
"Even though you're a Cancer."
In so many more ways than one.

I still catch your scent on things every so often.
Isn't that dumb?
But they're things that have nothing to do with you.
Like my roommate.
Or a complete stranger.
Or this one corner of my desk.
Not one of your old T shirts
(because you never gave me one).

I hate these strangers and desk corners for smelling like you.
How dare they remind me of such euphoria?
My nostrils fill with the scent of laundry, soap, cotton, and loyalty.
******* loyalty.
My eyes flutter closed
My brain fuzzes
The corners of my mouth turn up slightly
And I expect to see you in front of me
And feel your flannel against my cheek
And your dry, cracking fingers against my palms.
But you aren't there.
I get disoriented for a moment.
I spritz. Sanitize. Breath deeply.
Avoid that stupid desk corner
Because I'm sick of being reminded that I'm still in love with you.

She thinks of how they like each other and it begins to make her stomach ache.
But not her heart (never her heart) because it was numbed so long ago.

She aches because she knows forever wasn't meant for her
(was never meant for her).
And she's known since the day when half of the books disappeared from the shelves and half of the closets were emptied.
And all the tissues were used.

So she couldn't help but wonder when and how it would be over.
If it would become a race to see who could drown in apathy first
Or if time would simply run out.

If the hard and heavy breathing in his ear
would turn into quiet whispers of "maybe later."

If the laughter would become forced
The giddy smiles turning to grinding teeth
The beaming glances to blank stares

She'd rather end it all.
Rather stop it in it's tracks than let it burn on only to let it fade.
Apathy to anything and everything else but (please) never to him.

Because the same day she learned about forever
She decided she'd always collect her books and clear out her closets
wistfully (not indifferently)

I can ******* heat on your breath
I let you retreat again like the swift pull of the tide from the moon
Hoping you'll mistake a passing car outside the window for my sigh of pleasure
I cannot muster authenticity
Because I'm too busy wondering why
you told me you aren't scared to die
you told me you're scared of being something you're not
you told me you're lonely.

I thought I was coming here for a quick release
To be, for a moment, one of your better girls.
I came to forget a love, quench a thirst
To leave with stories at the tip of my pen, and notches in my belt
I thought we weren't going to care about each other.

But where do we stand now?
Pinkies entwined, floating side by side through the night.
Keep our balance, "Darling."
I won't be the girl who puts on a happy face for your parents
Or the one who blushes at the sound of your name
Or the one who says "I love you" and means it.
You were the last person I expected to want these things from me.
But your disappointment is tangible each time I reclaim my shirt and walk out your door.
And that's how I know we went wrong somewhere along the
Line

She sat french kissing strawberries until all the good bits were gone.
Tapping *****, chipped nails against granite
Waiting to fall out of love.

Is it still ok to think of you when I'm all alone
and I just need someone to touch

Or what about when I'm exhaling sobs into pillows
and you're the only one who'd understand

My mind is my own
I'll imagine your hands, arms, and heart wherever I please
In my favorite dreams and fantasies you'll come back to me

Maybe this is how it will be:

Every Summer I will fall in love with you
With my head on your chest
The sound of your breath in and out of your lungs
The faint, sweet smell of  y o u
The brush of your rough fingertips against my thigh
It all lulls me deeper into the notion of US
Until New England reclaims me
Drags me from you
Tear stains on your T-shirt

Every Autumn I will miss you
What are you doing
Who are you with
Can she love you better than I can
Wake up spotted with sticky, black tears
Grasping for a body that was never there

Every Winter I will leave you
Distance myself from what I can't have anyway
Play it safe
Protect myself
Be cold to you
As cold as the Boston wind against my exposed skin
on nights out with friends you'll never meet
It's better this way.

Every Spring I will forget you
Make a new mistake every night
You could never know me now
never love me now.
In and out of other boys' beds
In and out of other boys' heads
Boys with cigarettes and tattoos
Boys with guitars and cameras
Boys with French kisses and French accents

But none of them fill the hole that you used to
It hurts just in time for Summer

The rims of his glasses were pressed to my inner thighs
Warm, desperate breath
Sweet, smug eyes. "Pug eyes" he says.
And no, I didn't think of you.

Black and white, tame and tentative touch
Nothing to share, least of all eye contact
A charitable caress. Stiff salutation. A bound to the exit.
But no, I didn't think of you.

Churning head, stomach, tongue.
I mirrored his goofy smile
My insides mirrored a washing machine
We were a tumbleweed of bones.
I did not think of you.

Alone with my reflection
Flaws glow infer red; eyes sting with tears.
I still did not think of you.

Old basement. Old Building. Bland Sandwich.
"I just want to get to know him more," she says. I feign interest.
"I want someone to notice the little things about me. I want love"
I stop I freeze I drain
My throat is tight and full of blades
I think
I think of you

I thought brining you back in would **** all of this
This never-ending sensation that the greatest years of my life are already

Gone.

But it’s all just the same
I’m absolutely blinded by the smiles on every other person’s face and the intense glow from their cheeks and eyes
The wind is knocked from my lungs everyday from the excitement and energy that surrounds me; drains me.
It ***** the life from my limbs and heart and there is nothing left to give to you

I left so many good things behind in hopes of having it all wrapped back up and delivered to me in new and mysterious packages

But all of my boxes and bags have been emptied of any familiarities
They fill with misery and bleak thoughts beneath my bed and my heart

Everyday I feel further and further from finding anything to remove the lump from my throat
And you drift deeper and deeper into a state of being which I feel I will never understand again

How long can we keep up this charade of “forever?”