we sit and talk, and for a while,
you kept me out with a sombre smile,
what little light you had left inside,
was drenched in thoughts of suicide.

Of course I knew the signs were there,
but scared to see your burdened stare
that met my soul, and had me frozen,
as time passed by like subtle poison.

im not sure if you noticed but when you left you took my heart and soul with you and people keep on asking me why is there a bandaid over where my heart is suppose to be and ive ran out of excuses on why im emotionless and maybe when you find the chance you could hand them back and possibly could we talk about you and i because people keep on wanting to talk about what happened with us and what went wrong and the great and the ugly but the truth is the only person i want to talk to about us is  with you.

"I messed up"

Every

"I'm sorry"

Word

"I need to fix this"

You

"I can help"

say

"Let me apologize"

Feels

"Don't be like this"

Like

"I will understand"

A

"Trust me"

Knife

"I will find a way to control you"

To

"Talk to me"

The

"I love you"

*Gut

I miss laughing with you....
I miss you pushing my hair behind my ear like you  used to do....

I miss you talking to me....
explaining certain things on how they should be,....

I miss having *** with you....
you were game for anything ....
there were things i did that I never do.....

but most of all......

I miss spending the weekends or my days off together.....
I miss you now and i know it will too be forever!!!

This wind keeps snapping at our feet
through shoes unravelling.
Gales are hungry.
          Night's abandoned,
               streets have emptied.
Still, we own them--just keep talking.
           Winter's wailing.
           **** the old days.
Clutching coats closed,
                         tread nostalgia
past these sidewalk intersections.
Claimed by rambling conversations,
               often
               we're only
               rehashing
our worst mistakes
                                  and
                 shivering
                our way be-
             -neath stoplights
lit by good memories.

          I've got this notion tonight
          that we'll find our way
                                                  back
         ­ into the warmth found behind
          our locked front doorways.
Ways we've found to always hide
our faces from the cold outside
          have been running dry all night.
So drink down the cold street light
          and we'll make a blur of those green-white street signs.

This cold's still clawing at your face
through scarf unraveling.
Chapped lips smiling.
          Nights like this have
               kept on piling.
Winter owns us. Just keep walking.
           Winter's crying,
           "**** the old days!"
Frostbit footsteps
           slip nostalgia
past these frowning checkpoint questions.
Retouch same old observations.
                Sometimes
                we're only
                 retracing
the same missteps
                                but
                    ­frigid
             friends like us
                are melting
into old habits

          I've got this notion tonight
          that we'll take this route
                                                     for
          one more familiar cold flight
          from here to daybreak.
Say, "let fly those bomb bay doors!"
We've bombed these frozen streets before,
                    and I've got a couple more
          so keep moving 'til we find our front doors.

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But seeing you smiling at her
Talking to her like she is special to you
Was what hurt me the most

shy stutter of a thought
scurrying across rough rock and diving
headfirst into cold white water
so as not to be heard, unlike
the wilted sigh from pinched lips
that draws eye contact then breaks it
like waves upon those stones

syllables soft and jumping
through valleys, over jagged mountains
just to reach ears clouded
with assumptions and a failing effort
to tune it all out
skinny fingers gripping a skull
through wild, upset hair
hands coming to rest uneasily
within each other, still shaking from the strain

or maybe it's the cold that cuts edges
into my shoulders, ties the laces tighter across my back
pinching me into place as i twist inside
looking away a thousand times, and trying
but i cannot unwind, i cannot open myself
to you