drying my eyes with the crumpled plane tickets
that brought me here
as the new ones slowly print, inch by inch
and the ink dries upon my cheeks
and the time has been tattooed into my eyelids
ticking away, ticking closer and closer
to the end

closing my ears to the sound of cars
passing by on an open road
as the sound of wheels on concrete presses
into my memory and suddenly
i am in a taxi, speeding towards the last drop
of this city, and part of me is left behind
among the crashing water of spring
and the wood chips of an abandoned playground
and the puddles that we avoided as we ran
uncontrollably down the street
laughing

i am not laughing now, except to appear
alive as the boy who makes my coffee
makes me a joke too, free of charge
and i don’t want him or anyone to worry about me
so my mouth opens a crack, and my eyes fold inwards
and he smiles, placing my drink on the counter
and i burn my tongue trying to drown
that fake laugh

the tickets are done printing
the zipper has been forced
over the gaps between my fingers
where your hand should be
and the puzzle wavers as i pack it, but
the pieces stay together, at least until
i close the suitcase
and somehow, i am confident
that it will remain intact

i crumple the tickets in my hand
in an effort to make them look old
as if the summer had already passed
and i was on my way back to fill my empty palm
with warm skin, soft words and a hard press
of my mouth to the sound of something akin to home

i can feel the push and pull of two places
that have shaped me and are shaping me still
as my body curves around the ribs
and hips of a new kind of comfort
and the stiff seat in this airplane
reminds me that i am never as comfortable
as when i am with you

and i resign myself to sunny months
and warm music
and the discomfort of a puzzle
that is trying its hardest
to stay together

and i resign myself to dipping my toes in the water each night
pulling out the glue from between them
and keeping the pieces together
pressing my hand into the soft wood of the dock
in an effort to shut out the cold air

and i resign myself to the confidence i feel
knowing time will be on my side
when i need it to be

i throw the old tickets in the trash
and slip the new ones inside my passport
ready
to keep myself together

heartstrings are stretching
words etching weakness into the veins
that spin round the surface of what might be my soul
and the doubt casts bruises upon the changing weather
that threatens to break through
and sever the strings altogether

i don’t need my heartstrings, do i?
i don’t need to be tied down to some feeling
that keeps fading and sparking and blazing
and blinding my eyes to the strength i am losing
i don’t need to be tethered to any safe words
or to careful phrasing of a feeling
that has no meaning without an answer
and yet is never a question

and i’m tired of phrasing it like a question, waiting
for a response to validate my crooked, fearful thoughts
waiting for a yes or a no or even just
maybe
coupled with a smile
and some **** good explanation for why i’m being left hanging
on my own stupidity, time and time again
as i read too much into nothing
and nothing into everything
and i become someone other than myself, ignoring
the way i used to work, always standing by
until someone else went first

i’m tired of going first
tired of waiting in line, tired of buying tickets
to  my own show
tired of being early
tired of running behind
just tired, really

i’m tired of myself, and of the way i deal
with all this, letting myself give in to honesty
and then stitching myself up on the way home
with cold air and a hard swallow of the words
that i regret saying

i’m tired of regretting everything
come springtime, i don’t want to regret winter
stretched heartstrings melting across bare branches
as i am swallowed by the leaves
and an airplane takes me home across three time zones
where i can just forget the whole thing