Maybe its a midnight drive
Reminding you of an escape route
Listening to the wind
Wind through your hair
Wind through your lungs
Airing out between your ribcage
The worries weighing down your spine
Falling like wind chimes making music to dance to
Or maybe its just you.
Breathing life into me
Driving that car to the edge of nowhere and still driving
Dragging wind chimes behind us as we go
A galaxy of sounds
Melting the demons away.

Nights spent with cold feet
Staring into nothing
Ripping up old photos
Of who you used to be.
Now you're an evicted house
A hollowed out ribcage
Heart amputee
With the only way of filling the empty
A daily dose of pills.
What have you become?

On nights like these my bones ache
Quivering, swollen ribcage,
Sometimes my insides can't be contained.
Sometimes my hands
Reach out into the darkness
Grasping for god knows what
Maybe you know what
Maybe you are the one part of my past that I need to keep.
Maybe you are the steam from my tea,
My favorite socks,
That perfect song on the radio.
Too many times nowadays
I see you crossing the street.
I see you getting a coffee,
Running by as often as I feel the wind on my face.
Too many times I want to say something
But it catches in my throat
It catches in the webs we always weave
Most days I stop myself before I start.
My head, my heart, it's all a mess
I always put us in the position for drowning.
I can't keep my head above water anymore
I can't find you anymore
If I knew that 3am was the only time you would appear
Maybe I would try harder to swim
But now I get lost in poems
That never have the right ending
Maybe because we never have the right ending
Whenever you pass by the window
I want to throw out a paper plane
To somehow send you a warm smile
I get so cold.
All I do is write because we never get to talk
And god I miss your voice.
I wish I wasn't so confusing
And that we weren't an undefined word
Because maybe then I could know what to say to you.
You are the one part of my past
That I don't want to let go
But I still don't know just how I can hold you.
These sorts of poems
Are the kind I hide under my bed sheets
But on nights like these my bones are aching
And the shaking won't stop
So this time
I will throw the paper plane out of the window
Even if you don't catch it.

The sadness has lifted up
No longer dragging me down
By my cracking collarbones
But as it lifts lifts lifts
I feel those broken pieces lifting too
*Am I still me without them?

I need an explanation,
For the sad morning toast
For the warmth in the sunshine
The mid afternoon tears
And the 3am cups of tea.
When's the last time
I actually decided something?
Why can't I choose?
Sometimes I just
Want to be certain about myself.