I remember a period of time when I could think about you
and a smile would spread across my face
You were a serendipity
I did not expect someone like you to
waltz into my life
But you came
You were so shy and quiet
As was I
But we could talk about anything
and everything
I was an open book in your hands
I covered my scars
with bandaids
I pulled back the covers
I stepped out of the walls I had built around myself
and I let myself shine for you
I was a piece of paper
and you were the pen
I was a blank canvas
and you were the artist

But those times have long since passed
You left me without so much as a whisper
Although you were a part of my life for a short while
your presence left an imprint on my soul
The paper and pen ummoving, unchanging
Our story unwritten
and unfinished

Kind of like

I've been hit by a wave of helplessness

A feeling of imminent something
that's about to happen

I see it most, clouded in red, when I'm in my room faced with a mountain of "not done yet"

I feel it most when on scales, unevenly balanced and soon to tip

Stay? Go?
Hold on? Let go?

I'm with it most when I see the boxes spilling from every corner of my life

Memories screaming dont leave me
Don't leave me

I live it most when tearing down photos, ripping down paintings,
giving away keepsakes

I taste it in the air when I'm driving with the windows down,
Wind roaring at me, children's rhymes taunting

I can smell it in the foods I eat,
the restaurants I might never see again

I hear it loudest in the words I speak, goodbyes all waiting at the back of my tongue
Yet shy of hellos still to come

I live it when I pack my bags,
zip and unzip my suitcases

I am tortured by it while I consolidate my life down into a single box

A feeling
A valley
A sinking, dreaded chasm

I'm standing on the edge

Of unfinished business

They said you cried to many tears so you drowned yourself in the ocean.
Now I’m waiting on sandy white shores.
Searching for the part of me left out in the wide open sea.
Lately your face hides behind my eyelids.

Cherish these memories.
                                                                ­  Precious as can be.
                                            Blindly chasing goals,
                         has is own penalties.  
      And your enemies,
will swipe your knees.                                  
As best friends,
won't always be.
I'm proud of you,
You not proud of me.
   A bond formed, with trust
    Will always be most important - you'll see

nothing is ever finished
do not believe in the definitive
life is a spectrum
black and white exists
to those who live fixed
wander
grey is the colour
of a question
that has no answer.

I still try to wash you from my life,
my body,
my mind,
I still take all my clothes,
my sheets,
my towels
And put them in a wash with too much detergent praying that this time,
You will not be there anymore,
That your scent which I know faded months ago,
Will be erased from my memory.
I still smell that ******* hoodie which sits folded in my closet,
Like it did,
When it,
When I,
Waited for you to come back and
Claim it,
Claim me.
I still smell what I used to when I burrowed my head into your chest,
And get hit with a wave of nostalgia,
Breathing deeper than I ever had before,
Because you taught me what breathing felt like.
Because you showed me that I had never known what air in my lungs felt like before
Because I feel like there is water in my ******* lungs and I am gasping for air daily.



[This will never be finished. I have nothing left to say. There is nothing left to say. This will be added to the collection of unfinished work which will never see the light of day again. Because we all need to give up on something in this world. And I can't give up on you as easily as you did to me. So I will give up on putting my thoughts on a page with some grace and delicacy and fluidity that moves perfectly. I will give up on that]

(e.m.w)