And two days later,
the taste and smell of your skin;
senses still aroused.

If I had to wait a while
I would
but time would linger for so long
I feel I'd turn to stone.

Put my back to the place
I learned to call my home.

If I had to run for miles
I would
but I feel like I'd get farther
if I could
somehow shake the weight of
my foundation.

The echo of a flawed creation.

Recollections of uncertain
shrouded misinterpretations.

Should I go or should I stay?

Set down my feet or fly away
into the depths
of my own introversion?

I'm cemented in submersion.

i sometimes hope
that i plague your mind
as often as you take over my own

because you are the only
consistent thought i have

and though youve become
more like a stain than a memory

ill never wash myself again
as long as your imprint
remains on my body

little things
consumes nearly the whole of our soul....
storms...blizzards....draughting one's hopes...
in the midst of all the chaos
little things survive...
their essence resonating our minds ...
reminding us of His presence...
the storms will pass....
the giants may fall....
but wading through them all...
little elements of joy linger.

Your scent still lingers
On my jacket
It's been a week
Yet your still lingering
On my sleeve
Did you really hug me that much
Or did I just hug you too tightly
Because I knew it was goodbye
For a little while

We collided like a train rushing in from behind,
Your memory and I.
My breath stuck in my throat, unexpectedly.
Tears stinging my eyes, staining my cheeks, involuntarily.
Has your ghost been lingering, shadowed,
Waiting to spring upon me like a serpent in the grass?
Don't tempt me with that shattered past.
I'd gladly place the shards of history's heart back into your hands.
Blatantly disregarding every reserve my mind fires,
Happily risking it all just to taste our youth.
Begone with you phantom! If that's what you are.
Stay only if your monstrosity lingers well into our future.

I want to tell you
I tear at the sound of your name.
Like the paper jammed in my printer at work,
Sometimes I am a wrinkled mess without you.

I want to tell you
Distance tastes like acid in my throat.
It burns holes in my esophagus nightly.

I want to tell you
I wanted to make a home for myself
In the palms of your hands.
You could cup them
And you could bring them to your lips:
I would let you drink me, if you wanted to.

I want to tell you
This heart is heavy like iron,
But also fragile like glass.
It is fractured and full of chips
Like the one that formed the last time we kissed:
You told me you loved me, then.
It was the first and last time,
And I said it back sounding something like a desperate plea
Knowing it would not stop you from leaving
(But somehow you still lingered.)

I want to tell you all of these things,
But the words get stuck in my mouth.
They are afraid of coming out,
So instead I tell you
"I've missed you"
And I hope some part of you understands the rest.