“Are you cold?”
“Yes”
“Put your hands in my pockets, it’s not weird.”

How is it that you can turn something so ordinary into something so intimate?

I may have put my hands in your pockets that night but you put your hands on my heart.

From that day on I gave you permission to put your hands in my pockets as well.  

It’s not weird.

“Come here”
“That’s my pocket”
“Yeah, we are kind of known for those aren’t we?”

Have you ever noticed how no matter where you go that you can always find a pocket?

You may think that pockets were special to us but let me tell you, everyone has them.

From that day on pockets became my new favorite thing, especially when they were yours.

It’s not weird.

“Is everything okay?”
“I think we need a break.”
“Stop playing with your pockets and talk to me!”

How come everything that’s good in the world always has to come to such a bitter end?

I may not have been as important to you, but you and your stupid pockets became everything to me!

From that day on I looked for you and your pockets everywhere.

It’s not weird.

“Do you always skate with your hands in your pockets?”
“Just when you’re around.”
“Of course you would say that.”

Have you ever even noticed that I don’t wear jeans anymore, or that my jacket pockets stay zipped?

You may have seen that if you weren’t so focused on entertaining other girls.

From that day on pockets and everything related became the bane of my existence.

It’ not weird.

“Are you cold?”
“Don’t you remember? I’m always cold.”
“Put your hands in your pockets, it won’t hurt.”

How come people always try to simplify and eliminate the pain they’ve never felt?

I may not be the only girl you will ever be with but I promise, nobody will ever appreciate something as little as your pockets like me.

From that day on I ignored you and your pockets to the best of my broken ability.

“You didn’t come to my game.”
“Just put your hands in your pockets and go.”
“I’m sorry.”

Have you ever noticed how you only feel bad about the way you make others feel after you experience the hurt as well?

You may not think you did anything to hurt me but my heart breaks every time I look from your blue eyes to your blue jeans and their stupid pockets.  

From this day on I refuse to let you and your pockets cloud up my mind and life.

It was always weird.

I never told you that when I woke beside you, I woke up just to hold
You always told me that I lied about how your auburn eyes were
Beautiful describes the best parts of my dreams in which I kissed
You never believed me when I said that my love would forever be
Undying be the whisper, describing the thoughts of my adoration for
You never noticed how I made sure that the temperature was always
Perfect was the night when the forget-me-nots told me to say I love
You made me the happiest soul to exist when you said you loved me
Too

These weighed down bundles
of my tumbled dried insides
collapse into heavy stacks of cotton
linen sheets, tangled;
memories of cold pressed touches
and warm suds wash over me,
while my seams come undone
in my hands.

Why do you think these threads
can be untangled?
I've looked at your patchwork heart
and oh, how I wish mine could be mended like that,
but I hope you can understand,
I've broken many needles in the process
and I'm not sure I can afford to start again.

I flung my arms open
In a dream.
I hoped to feel you, knowing
A place warm and welcoming.
A place I haven't been in so long.
I flung my arms open to a place That I've missed, that I haven't been in so long.
A knock perfectly placed on your heart.
I've missed you so much,
Remembering the last time we spoke.
The last time we kissed.
Our lips patient in between knocks.
Our feet tap in anticipation.
My fingers in such rush to grab you.
In relief to how I've missed you being in front of me.
Seeing your smile for the first time in so long.
Your face a breath of fresh air.
And this,
The warmth of your skin.
Your caress snug against my skin,
The best dream I've had in so long

I look behind me, and the soft blur steadies slowly, squinted my eyes a few more times and I now see clearly. It’s a broken bridge, there's a hollow gap, a deep emptiness that separates us. We used to share intimate little spaces, strange but familiar darkness, the perfect amount of comfortable silence. I used to fill your cracks with these tiny flowers that grow in my mouth, and you use to fill mine with warm fuzzy stars out of your pocket. I wonder if I left cold spots when I left your bed, I wonder what do you use to fill them with? I left you with a lot of trinkets, I wonder if you still see my glassy eyes when you hold them close. I wonder if my name shoots arrows in your delicate chest when it's mentioned. It haunts me, consumes me, not knowing what you think of me. I'm screaming in whispers when I confront this humdrum fever. I look at you, and I can't tell anymore what brings you peace during times of high tides? Where do you surrender your tired hands? When do you seek an honest slumber? How do you mask your woes? Why do you play those songs? I can ask, you can tell, we can talk, but I would not really know the true answers and all that you and I both know, is that we are nothing but the previous pages, nothing but the bullet casings, just empty husks of all the things that once were there. We're just living each of our little lives day by day, in ways we no longer share. It's not sadly poetic, it’s simply the reality that I chose to create. I don't' know, I guess today is just one of those days that I remember you. I remember us.