dear boyfriend,
sorry for calling you my boyfriend, i'm just tired of calling you my ex, the ex, the one that broke my heart, the one that got away. so for now, for today, dear boyfriend,
i've been sorting through our memories and i found the very first necklace you gave to me. i haven't worn it yet, but it still shines. i thought you'd be interested to know that the shirt you gave me still faintly smells of you (or maybe that's in my head). i'm feeling really nauseous today and i think its because i read the letters you wrote to me and your handwriting is strange and so familiar. how your letters capitalize mid-sentence, i never quite understood. everytime i see it, i think of how your mother taught you her whole life and imagine you sitting with her and learning to read. did your mother teach you to love? mine certainly didn't. my father taught me to run, though. he taught me to run and run and run and never to look back. i'm still struggling with the second part. he taught me to never stop moving because your past is out to get you. i've been running ever since. my feet hurt and i wish you were here to hold me. but i guess love needs to take a breath, love needs a second, love needs you to freeze for a moment in time. but i never stopped running. i never stop. have you been stopping? freezing in your tracks when the memories hit you like a brick? does your heart clench in desire the way mine does? sometimes it feels like i'm running with my eyes closed and i've gotten my hair caught in spider webs. ugh, i've always hated spiders. i'm not afraid of them, but i don't enjoy their presence. i always liked the idea of having you **** them for me but honestly i think you were more freaked out by them than i was. which is kinda cute in and of itself. you were different, i mean, are different. i wonder how much has changed. i wonder how little has changed. i wonder if you're still waiting for the day the sun sets in the east. i wonder if you're still waiting for me.


love,
your (ex?) girlfriend
(and forever soulmate).

the star of my sky
the moon of my night
with my last breath
for you, i will fight.

-

you remind me of home

the way your eyes look down
when you walk
but straight into mine
when you talk
you listen
to me
attentively
and that's more
than i can say
for anyone
on any day
you ask me
about my family
about my heart
about my hurt

and then there's the silence

you put on my favorite song
and close your eyes
you say nothing
you said nothing
you didn't touch me
or offer to
you stayed close enough
for comfort
and far enough
for peace
you let the music
tell me it was
going to be okay

the other day
you told me about your family
how you just lost your home
i understood

you remind me of home

you make jokes in arabic
attempt to speak urdu
make fun of english
your accent is
local enough to
understand
it is foreign enough
to love.

let's eat maggi noodles
and talk about life

let's sing simple songs

i think of you
and i think
soft
soft
soft.
i think soft.

let's stay far enough
for it to not hurt
let's stay close enough
for it to not hurt

you remind me of home
you remind me of home
you remind me of home

-

And I sat on his front porch,
watched the sun and the stars
appear and disappear.

I kept tapping on his window,
I kept knocking on his door.

I peaked through the glass
and saw his hair grew longer

but he still takes his coffee black,
he still leaves the big light on when he sleeps.
He still puts on his left sock first
and still plays the same Cigarettes After *** vinyl
when he writes.

He still hangs his ***** clothes on that three-legged chair,
still hates the smell of wine
and still smiles sideways.

Mother says my best quality is patience

and so I sat on his front porch,
watched the sun and the stars
appear and disappear.

I kept tapping on his window,
I kept knocking on his door.
I kept asking for my heart back
but of course

he still plays his music too loud.

Echoes reverbate inside
this blue satellite,
signals of sadness and
ashen butterflies.

It's the little things
that bring nature to life,
smaller still are
the things that **** light.