i tried to write you a letter
     once
but was unsure of the address for the heavens where you shine
     not "Heaven"
          per say
but the stars that gained your carbon as you selflessly gave it away

          turns out celestial bodies aren't listed in the yellowpages

i tried sending you smoke signals
     twice
but the message was so **** long
  and it read more like a song
    and you never much liked my lyrics anyway

i moved on to morse code
     spent night after night lying on my back with a flashlight
dripping ceasless patterns of dots and dashes into that murky blue puddle of midnight sky
     as if maybe you'd reply
with a simple "hush"
and a shyly sigh

          it finally dawned on me that you probably couldn't decode it
          that your parents probably never made you learn
               i cursed them for not teaching you how best to reach me

now
     i'm getting older
and colder
and alot less wide-eyed and hopeful

now
     i just hope you can hear me speak

the click in the back of my throat that comes with trying not to cry
the sincerity in my 'love you's
  and my 'miss you's
    and in my uncensored ungaurded love that i ash onto your headstone from the end of my pregnant joints

now
     i just hope you can taste the beers i bring to share with you
as i'm rambling along the rails of my de-railing train of thought
and ripping through that sixer i brought
          you and your cheap taste in beer

i hide the bottle caps in those little metal vases that your mom keeps filled with florist foam
     and different colored silk lillies
          they always look so nice

now
     i just hope you can read me
better than you ever could before

i hope you've decoded the lines in my palms
and the ***** of my feet
and the cracks in my nicotine teeth
     as i'm smiling wildly at the earth that keeps your ashes safe
          close to her breaking heart

i hope you can read the quotation atop your grave
     i'd have never imagined that the one permanent thing i could ever give you
          was the last line
          of the last text
          that i'd ever send your way

i meant it back then
but now
      it means so much more

"sleep sweetly, philly, you will never be forgotten"

you can find my head in the clouds if you look up the residences of bored angels who have made us pawns in their games

you can find my heart under the faucet, i've rinsed it already and it's nearly done drying if not for the occasional drip here and there,
but hush your mouth because it's progress, it's migrated from the hamper where you tossed your sweater after you realized you wanted to get "that piece of dirt" off your sleeve

you can find my soul when you shut your eyes and take a walk through the city in your mind, tracing our ghostly footsteps,
the pedometer refuses to start on the grounds of how impossible that number seems

you can find the rest of me every time you break off eye contact because you don't really want to have that tedious conversation,
in old letters
in music
in lonely 2 ams
in frustrations
in the leftover spaces your distractions and routines don't quite fill.

it's ok because i'm sure i'll reach out for you too somehow,
there has to be a yellowpages lying around my house somewhere.

Sometimes i can’t cope with the mundane
The abrupt end of it all
Everything stops making sense
I watch my own body from above
So i surround myself with people
Very Passionate People

There are those so drowned in anguish
So doused in dread
They take up the room with it,
Like something between
vinegar and gasoline
There’s weight to the air, like iron
The ache pouring from their skin
Like spores
Taking root in my cracks and sockets
And in my soul
And in my memories
Embedding their nightmares
In between every floorboard
And every time it happens,
I feel whole again

There are people i see
Who’s smiles scream like the sun itself
Their skin smells like honeysuckle
They are always warm
Every breath, every word
Feels like new life
Like dandelion wishes, and soft grass
Kisses on picnic blankets,
Driving too fast
They burn white hot, yellow,
Setting fire to my judgement,
And every time it happens,
I feel whole again

There are those who like lanterns
Burning on a dark road in a new moon
And you’re a moth to their flame
But every word they speak
Whips hard enough to split the skin
Every time your eyes lock
Your body aches, like lead poisoning
Their eyelashes make your bones brittle
You’re too enthralled to tell them that
Yes, you’re terrified
But they make you writhe like a snake
They grip you just as hard
And you like it
They stain your bedsheets
Sickly, rotted green
And every time it happens
I feel whole again

And there are others
Blank canvases
Locust shells
Hallowed out trees,
Ruined by pestilence
Forgotten, left to fester
Left behind generations ago
It’s a miracle there is breath in those bodies
It’s a wonder they have souls anymore
Do they know that they’re ghostly
That they’re in purgatory?
I don’t think they have the will
Still, their motions are effortless
A cotton dress on a downhill stream
Something beautiful, taken so far away
Sunken to the depths, despite all things
And every time it happens,
I feel whole again

The trouble is
In knowing this
Encyclopedia of personages
The yellowpages of my life
I can’t stay vacant this long
There will be color on these walls again
Photos in these halls again
And i cannot choose them
All the people i meet and see
Leave their fingerprints on all the mirrors
Staining what i see when i look for myself
And it seems that
After too long
I’ll remain the marble statue
With a pretty new visage,
A beautiful, distracting mask
Made entirely of
Everyone I’ve ever met