You are my “Former”
As in used to be
As in the past
As in it’s okay for you to date her
As in I don’t mind seeing her show back up in your life
As in I don’t wonder if she knows that I exist at all
As in it doesn’t crush me when I remember our beginning, not so far from our ending
As in I have had months to be okay with this
As in I don’t cry about could have been’s
As in I don’t feel stupid for thinking I could have held a candle to her
As in I didn’t really believe it when I said we could have a future even after the breakup
As in I haven’t picked apart every flaw that sits within me that I have no way of actually knowing are absent in her
As in I wasn’t really thinking that our post-breakup hook ups meant anything
As in I knew people don’t work like that anymore
As in my heart doesn’t break when I think about her kissing you
As in of course I know we said I love you too soon and we couldn’t have known what we were saying
As in it definitely is okay for you to go back with her
As in it’s not like it’s only her that bothers me
As in it’s cool that I knew this the whole time
As in I don’t care that I could hear it in your voice when your eyes glassed over the sound of her name
As in I really really really don’t mind
As in, sure, I’ll be fine, I didn’t mind being second best
Again.

I remember your skinny waist
And your skinny lips
With which you had a small smolder
For me to want to kiss.
Your skinny wrist
And skinny thighs
Made you all that much fragile
Than a porcelain doll,
Wanting to be touched.

if you kissed my lips as passionately as you did my thighs maybe i would have believed you when you told me that you loved every inch of my tired body

Bland as the morning breath of June
The southwest breezes play;

insanity, begin;

                      PLAY

foam born (A) of the ocean
the backtrack (B)
            to the origin of human emotion
before hue and saturation
    my life may be black and white
but for the next hour
          -  quite frankly -
I don’t give a ****, because
I am a spaceman looking down on you
            no, literally

I am

[above]

you


the decade of statues into which I was born
begged to be forgotten
             left behind
communication with my own kind
             redundant
       boring
meaningless
humanity, mother earth
            nothing worth living for

no one worth dying for
because of the
informal gluttony
            a sickening acceptance
of the inherent claustrophobia of the human condition

I’m floating
            floating
                        floating
further away from you
from any possible natural surrounding
            or human connection
[claiming to be part of humanity always secretly disgusted me]
everything is beautiful from up high
I am a spaceman, a future butterfly.

wait.

something isn’t right
I’m further away
            more detached
than I intended to be
            further away
the safety of my orbit overlooking you
        deconstructing in front of my own eyes
now floating towards the sun of nothing

perhaps I
miscalculated my own superiority
I am the one floating towards eternity
   after all
to an inescapable fate
while you are back home
            with your (our) own kind
perhaps unhappy
but not alone

I am.

watch me pass by
            one last time
I feel my soul breaking apart
my eyes glaze over and
    sha/t/te/r
atmosphere
            burning
mistaken for a shower of stars
            an acceptable way to leave the third
dimension I suppose
perhaps you will see me as the ants of the sky
scattering
            glowing
                        burning
as I find the sun




hello?






am I still alive?




are you still there?




perhaps all I’ve said
            and lived
was nothing more than a prequel to the sequel
life before death?
    or the other way around?
I am no longer confined by four dimensions
      even time is irrelevant
everything is different
            everything is right
bleeding viridian
    feeling the sensation of nothingness
        seeing the sempiternity of the galaxy
hearing translucent shades of the endless chasm
    that now surrounds me


falling


fallin
         g

falli
        ng

fal
      l
        i
          n
             g

f

a

l

l

i

n

g

into the depths
  until I land upon a new horizon

            I am a spaceman
I am discovering everything

I found death
surrounded by white walls
            the greatest journey
of our [lives?]
happens only six feet down
       surrounded by white walls


    this is what we have when we die.
  this is what is left of us.
white walls.


White Walls.

love

H,

I think we’re at war right now.
I’m not really sure —
we never were too good at clear conversation —
but I think we’re at war.

And it’s not that I want to do this,
but I’ve sent out the first wave of attacks.

They should arrive tonight, around 11.

I’m sorry.

You just love too much.
I can’t sleep,
I can’t think,
I can’t do my job;
I had to do something.

Please don’t think I wanted this.
Please.

I know you don’t mean to do it.

But I need this.
He needs this.
And after all,
that’s what we both want right?
For him to be happy?

It’s the only way.

And who knows,
maybe you’ll win this one.
You always were a fighter.

Maybe this letter will reach you before they do.
Maybe you’ll come out on top.
And if you do, just promise me one thing.

Take care of him.
Make sure he doesn’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Try not to break him, the way she breaks you.

With love,
B.

i am not sorry
for the times i tried to hold your hand
only to have you push me away.
i will not apologize
for the moments that i spent
sleeping on your porch
knocking at your door
begging you for something more.

i did not want to be a passing craze.
a seasonal fashion statement.
the tweed coat clinging to your chilly ribs.
i was supposed to be eternal,
i was going to serve my time.

a lifetime
of all the times i'll never say i'm sorry
for the ways i could never let you go.
for the drunken nights of
"i just had to let you know"
150 character texts,
i am not sorry i got so desperate
there at the end.

i will not apologize for your tireless hole,
or your insatiable itch.
i will not apologize for my inability
to fulfill any of it.

Din of voices crowding out thoughts
Thoughts constructed of safety pins and toothpicks held together with spit
Spit dribbling out of the hungry mouth that yearns for companionship
Companionship which is desired but not truly felt
Felt people saunter past, their fabric feet barely touching the ground
Ground into a pulp are the vicious spiders of memory
Memory is a tactile thing that turns in contemporary web
Web of truths spinning and spinning beneath agile fingers
Fingers dug into temples' throbbing ache of words words words
Words are not enough to describe this mortal dullness
Dullness like the din of voices crowding out
**Thoughts