Have you ever wanted so badly to just
collapse and cry forever
but are unable to shed a single tear
and so you sit and you stare in silence
for what seems like forever
dreaming up possibilities that seem realistic
but really, you know they'll never happen
he'll never walk through that door
he'll never pick you up off of this floor
he'll never understand or accept you like this
and so you just sit, and you just stare, and you're silent.
and he will never know.

In your eyes,
in your smirk,
in that distant glare you sometimes get in the brief silences between our conversations.

In your bed sheets,
throughout your tattoos,
in this passenger seat that was once her throne.

She is still a part of you.
I see her in the way I look at you,
in the way I adore you and caress you and desire you..

All I see is her.
and the worst of it all
is that you still see her, too.

You know that moment,
that brutally honest and crushing moment,
when you realize
you have absolutely no idea
where you stand?
You know that moment,
when your heart sinks deep into your chest
and you realize
you are lost?
That moment when you begin to question
everything he's ever said
and you wonder
what am I,
to you?

And yet, you find yourself speechless
over and over again.
You stifle all of the gnawing questions,
time and time again,
waiting for the perfect time
that you know will never come.
You find yourself resisting the urge to simply ask,
because you are too afraid to hear
the answer.
What happens when there are too many
unspoken worries and unanswered questions
that you cannot go on.
Will you know?
Will you realize that there is no perfect time
because is there is no good time to ask?
That your questions all have inevitable answers
but that one tiny speck of hope keeps overcoming
the brutally honest and crushing realization
that the answer is no where.

Do you ask anyway?

I'm feeling creative
I don't know what it is
that is softly pushing my mind
against my heart,
but it is strong.
Gently but firmly,
urging the words from my
tongue to my arm to my fingers.
Maybe this poem
is not a poem at all,
or maybe it is a
terrible one,
at that.
A poem, such a vague
definition.
Just words.
My words.
Her words.
Strangers words,
so beautifully put together
or so wretchedly.
Words that make you feel
feel anything
when you're feeling empty.

What is this crap?

Sorry for wasting your time
if you read this
poem.

are you alright* they ask
are you feeling better
urging me to let on that
I am no longer a problem
how are things
what things.
I have no things, I have nothingness.
what does it mean, *alright
there is no all right, there is no
b e t t e r .
there is simply
n u m b .
you look tired
I am tired.
you look better
what does it mean, better
there is no
b e t t e r .
there is no
w o r s e
either.
there is nothingness, numbness.
what did you do last night
trying to make conversation.
I can't remember last night
it was too mundane
nothing
nothing can silence them.
nothing can't silence them.
they pry on.
*I - *
and then I stop listening.

No body ever cries over never being over
never never dies or breaks, it never shatters
never never hides or disguises itself
it is simple and explicit and real
No body ever has their hopes crushed over never
people believe in never, they can trust it
Never is honest and straightforward
as blunt as blunt can be, it's never shadowed

Forever is as useless as it gets
because it is never kept.
Forever will flash before your eyes in a heartbeat,
but never
is a mighty long time.

penetrate me.
invade my thoughts with yours
bestow upon me all of your ideas, your opinions
wrap my mind around yours and cradle my memories
touch me.
share everything of yours with everything of mine
give me all of you and all of your past
engrave me into your future
ingest me.
understand all of my perceptions
my view points elaborate on your point of view
account for every flaw and every inconsistency
love me*.