Sitting in the space made by her leaving, I'm far from comfy, but no-where-near lonely.

Cooking for one is far from easy and it's easier to succumb to the micro-wavable and the processed in a process that suggests sadness, but in essence is a life past survival and a start of a moving on.

Leaning on past memories for a more reliable sense of self, I walk back beyond the years of this boken partnership.

These years from the off were tainted with discomfort while threaded with laughter and it's the laughter I now follow to earlier layers that might form the start of a fresher, better fitting wardrobe and a comfort that is more than this - sitting in this space of her leaving.

More than this, I'm sure.

My three gold wedding rings sink deeper
into my 30-years-on skin.

I've seen the youtube tricks
for removing them with wrapped floss,

but I think I'd rather sever
each of them at the final decree,

otherwise I'll need to dispose
of three perfectly good gold rings.

And that seems a waste.

See it that you’re lonely and he’s not your type
You can be we all are ***** - empty pints
Clearly failing to disguise, what everyone can see besides
The guy who’s ‘call to arms’ around you
The guy who’s ‘call to arms’ around you

Usually she shouldn’t see, social suicide
Instead she’s bed the one *******
Blood boiling lipstick red
Stains on the setting that surrounds you
Stains on the setting that surrounds you

Even though you know you owe it all to him
You fantasise, your legs entwined on another’s skin

But I see it in your eyes, that you won’t leave him
Be a future bride with nothing but the ring
Behind the veil all your life hatin’ on him
So get out, get up, go. Leave.

Stop staring stunned and stupid from your sink window
Dreams, flashbacks oh fears and that, you’re free to roam
Barely really getting wet, from the guy who pays **** all respect
To the girl who’s ‘call to arms’ around him
To the girl who’s ‘call to arms’ around him

See it that your only way to copes to lie
Unaware the price to pays not only time
Emphasising those who wait, ‘til they’re to spun out to set it straight
With the guy who’s ‘call to arms’ around them
To the guy who’s ‘call to arms’ around them

‘Cause even though you know you owe it all to him
You fantasise, your legs entwined on another’s skin

But I see it in your eyes, that you won’t leave him
Be a future bride with nothing but the ring
Behind the veil all your life hatin’ on him
So get out, get up, go. Leave.

He left
A mark the color of red wine
Zinfandel
Placed high on cheek bone
Directly under her left eye
Such tears only bruising
It further

I didn't mean to
He simply stated

She left
A note the color of resentment
Charcoal
Placed atop bedroom dresser
Directly over her exiled contents
Such emptiness only reinforcing
It further

Once was more than enough
She simply stated

Growing up
She loved staplers
They kept things together
Nothing was ever lost

  Then one day
  Mommy & Daddy
  Became unstapled

Now she favors scissors
They cut things apart
So many things lost
Starting with her

today marks 8 years
since i heard the news,
6 years since
we started walking askew
and only a few marking
the painful years i put us through-
for i always said sorry
i always said i loved you,
but what i meant was
“please don’t forget me and the words i let loose,
because i don’t know what love is,
i don’t think i ever knew,
because November 22nd,
my dad left the house, my mom left too
to find a comforting bed
in a house brand new
with a new naked body
a new silhouetted view,
and i sat here wondering-
‘They said they loved me,
Does love leave you too!’”







so it doesn’t surprise me that i couldn’t hold up to any pauses
any breaks
any time alone
any detachment
any moment of somber tones
and i clung to you
like you were the last love i’d ever know
like your words were their empty promises
that everything would be ok, that i would like living in 2 homes

- but here i am 8 years later,
thinking that i’m over it all
thinking that i can learn from my past,
but the fear and tears still grip my face
knowing that the lingering hurt will always last-

i have found that my head goes too deep.
i can’t stop thinking about how sad it is that every single day i will keep waking up.

right now i’m sitting in my car
going on three hours.
it’s raining.
it is currently 12:23am
and i can’t get myself to go inside.

most people’s heads are
similar to
rivers
or lakes
or ponds
some deeper than others depending on who.

it’s much easier to see the bottom of shallow waters.
it is also much easier to stay afloat
and usually you’re closer to an edge.

the deeper it gets,
the harder it is to see through
and the longer it takes to get to a shoreline.

i tend to drown in the ocean of my mind.

i think one reason why the ocean appears beautiful is because of the mystery of what could be below.
also because the reflection of the sky on the water is simply incredible.
we all reflect normality, which is the sky.
it’s still beautiful but everyone can see it by just glancing up.

but most people can tell that there is more to us than just what reflects off the water,
but they don’t know what.

often times people are terrified but also incredibly intrigued by a mystery.

us with deep minds are often seen as beautiful,
we tend to make beautiful art because we have so much beneath the surface.

so many undrawn pictures
so many lyrics not written
so many movements not choreographed

people love to see us trace the shadows that are deep in our minds.

we paint theses things hoping that then maybe - just maybe - they could get it.
or at least part of it.

we create art so people can see pieces of things that they don’t see for themselves
and things that they can’t see from above the surface,

the surface of the water.
the surface of our head.

it’s dark when you go deep in the ocean
harder for the sun to reach
like my mind.

it has spots where the light reaches
but also areas that have never seen the light of day.
it can be scary and disorienting.

i honestly want to die.

but no matter how hard the day is,
i still wake up tomorrow.
we will all most likely make it to tomorrow.

that’s all we’ve ever done,
or else we would be dead.

sometimes i wish my mind was a body of shallow water instead of a complex ocean.
it would be so much easier to understand and be understood.

but i don’t have a simple head.
so i will keep writing **** that doesn’t make sense to anyone and i will keep waking up tomorrow.

i have yet to not make it to tomorrow.
i find is so sad,
and i’m still struggling at coming to terms with it.