sometimes I worry I’ll be forgotten
but then I realize
I am an amalgamation of all the people I’ve met
that I can’t not look at chop sticks without thinking of that sushi date
or peanut butter without thinking of his spoon
that I say bother because of my best friend
and can hear him ask me what’s next

and I no longer have to worry as much
because if I can hold as much of the many with some names that have lost their vowels
but still hold the feeling

I’ll be just fine

Being remembered in little moments
of laughter
and maybe even tears
till they are gone too

occasionally
(mostly in the dead of night)
i remember her telling me
—-
i could hear him shaking his head, because of all the things to do
taking shots in the final words
is really the best way to make sure she never opens that door
—-
so,  occasionally
I’m reminded of all the moments shots were taken
so I roll over again
maybe journal in a poem
and pretend
(occasionally)

he called me something pretty
as he slithered round my ankles
rattling along my bones
trying to constrict closer
and when I said that was too tight
well
he called me something not so pretty

it's the devils handiwork after all

some nights I wonder
in the space between the stars
and popcorn ceilings

if you are thinking of me

if we both reached out at the same time,
to roll over
and pretend
we don’t know
how right it felt

but I guess it doesn’t matter
at 2:39
as I remember the comfort
that seeped into my bones
the second I felt you lay down with me

but I guess it doesn’t matter
if you’re thinking of me
anyways

god were you made for me
I’ve heard that too many times
am I just to be passed around
till I break in someone’s hands?
a china doll
no longer in use

do you ever get sick of hearing
“I’ve never met anyone like you”
the way it rolls off their tongue
Like quarters in a roll
because
“I haven’t laughed like that with anyone in so long”
and I have to wonder
Why it feels no different to me
than an average
really no different
Tuesday

I want the echos of starlight to be captured in the lenses you chose to view the world in
I want the heartache of violet to hit you so profoundly you must ask
Why

I wish the beauty in the alphabet could crash along your deaf ears

and shake you like thunder

and as I moan, regarding perfect little deaths
his voice makes me cringe
and I’m transported back into that late november night where you just held me.

to realize on a cellular level my body was rejecting you

because I couldn’t do it for myself.

grief used to sound like it was a few sad days
like you wandered on the road, but knew where you were going

it took but a moment

Or it sounded that way.

But grief felt like nothing. or everything. It felt like a bubble encased the world, and continued on without you. There was no road, no wandering, no movement.

maybe just static.

and nothing else

but that’s not even true


because it was absolutely everything
a cacophony at the highest degree

but just with silence
and an empty seat

I used to be able to taste
your wonder

Between holding my bikini, cold beer, and hyper fixated on dives

I used to be able to taste your wonder
on the tip of my tongue

drunk on your smiles and perfected lies

I used to taste your wonder

but then
you stopped drinking
and I guess so did I

it’s that static sound
you know the one

when everything is quiet
but not quite

and the walls seem the same
but I can’t recall

whether it’s 2:36
or 11:41

right when I lost it all

I can’t seem to keep my socks on
you know
they move
wiggle down
and I have to
pick them up
why is it that’s tolerable for socks—
but for humans it’s not?

he said he wanted me in the worst way, and he really couldn't be more right
because he was willing to take an extra five seconds to make it seem like he cared
while I was craving connection
and we walked through some ways
to discover—— this way was the worst

please do not
leave me in cold sheets
where I can feel the rain pattering
bringing out the mourning in my bones
I do not want to hear it whisper across my palm
seeking its partner
no longer in reach

if I take anything
to my grave
whether it be shallow
or deep
let it be
that I was loved
the way I asked to be loved

crawl into the little tin with me
I’ll make space for you

actually I’m allergic to tin
that’s fine
I guess we’ll shudder in the freezing cold
together

I found my favourite jumpsuit
and i got a new shade of lipstick

doing my hair differently
in a way that makes me smile brighter

and I’ll entice a dance or two

who’ll let me be spun around
till I finally nail it

and I’ll buy them a drink — because they helped make me burn a little brighter

each day at a time

did you do it purposefully?

so that when women asked me if you actually took me on those first dates, I had to smile and say yes —

remembering the last week when we just sat in silence because if words were said we’d have to get off the phone.

or was that unintentional?

putting in your all and then breadcrumbing so I felt bad. And when you could see me withdrawing— you bring out extravagance.

So I couldn’t ask for a standard minimum.

But you wouldn’t do that, cause you’re the nice guy.

like she told me.

I can’t help but giggle
when you come across someone
who just doesn’t get you
and every other word
you both speak
gets lost in the cross wires
neither of your brains have the connection points to

she told me it’s just your brain
protecting itself

because it’s only good when you look back on it
but I can feel the way your fingers felt playing with my hair before tracing freckles in the sunshine

but tucked around the corner
like a child snickering about stealing the last chocolate bar

I can hear the whispers of arguments
of resentment and frustration

I know it’s protection

but it’s hard when perfection was replicated when there weren’t words or clothes to get in the way.

wrapped in sunshine and caressed by fantasies we both wanted to come true

I flipped through the pages
I sipped the good tea
I wandered the halls a bit more
just so they’ll see

I waited at the tables
I used the spoon
I gave them a good one

maybe then I’ll say goodbye

you were nothing you told me you’d be
but everything you showed me

and boy did I have my eyes closed

it’s the way a random song comes on
and I can feel the flicker of your hand
wrapping around my waist

Tucking a thumb into my jeans
an echo of a laugh
bouncing off the skin

leaving me
breathless with a button half undone
the wind taken away
with those echoes and grins

god I hate feeling again

it’s staring at the text
every day
but knowing they wouldn’t respond anyways

she isn't with me, and im going to do something about that now.

I miss the way your chest rose against my fingertips
Like an ocean beating across the shore.

The tide doesn’t come in, no more

it’s almost like the sea
knew
that I couldn’t tell
or even recall
the day you met me
was the same day
that all those dreams
were swept
to sea

I hate nights like now

when I can hear the sputter and puttering of the rain
as it goes about its way
and I am left
thinking back on many nights
where I was out immediately
against a heartbeat and grumble

feeling a safety I haven’t known since

I didn’t grasp

how painful reckless love would be

Until I looked up into the sky

simply— just wondering how I could call some pain beautiful

never wanting to feel it again

but sobbing for it anyways

as tears leach down onto pillows starved for attention

I have to reconcile the man who I fell in love with.

finding empty spaces when my fingers stretch, and grasp at nothing — like the day I tried to hold your hand when you let them take bites out of me.

I didn’t have thick enough skin for that, I had already been gnawed at. Stripped bare and bruised and battered.

but even then I still would’ve offered up my the morsels left if it meant you saw me. if you saw me.

But I have to reconcile that with the man who tries to hold it all.

You can’t carry someone when you won’t carry yourself. Sometimes grocery trips can’t be done in one.

(Much to your dismay, I know)

So I curl in, pretending I can hear you beside me

Until I want to scream, because I also hear the way you didn’t defend me.

and I’m left with pillows starved for attention and sleep deprivation.

I thought you were engaged
she told me

I laughed, no not really.

wow have you not talked since?

I laughed, no not really.

how are you doing?

I laughed.

no not really.

i no longer believe it is brave

to sit in blood soaked misery

just so i may go out standing

instead of reaching out a hand

and asking for help

to live

the knight
stands at the ready
Helmet down
sword up

ready to give it his all for those behind him

the white flag long gone
soaked with blood

back leg — staggering
roses dying by the side

and he stays there

never moving

the knight stands at the ready
never breaking

even when it’s only himself to save.

god I felt like an idiot
sitting looking at the different strands of carpet
her hair brushed back behind her ear
when she waited
to hear me ask
“did we even have anything in common?”
she shrugged

“your curiousity”

I laughed, rolling my eyes.

“and your need to be loved”

and god I felt like an idiot

I swear the whiskey tastes better
between little tears
the strum of a acoustic guitar
and those little ‘what happened’ moments

wished we talked more about wanting to be kissed

And how it is so very different when comparing to  wanting someone to kiss you.

“sorry hockey is life”

and i laughed, letting the dots display themselves like I hadn’t already made up my mind now. “Gotta do what you gotta do” I said.

Staring up into the final swipes of mascara. Wondering who would it benefit if I just took it off and put on the hoodie instead now? but I gotta do, what I gotta do. Just like him, apparently.

And I bought the beer. Mostly cause I pinky promised, remind me never to do that again.

And I sat there playing crib, enjoying the conversation, more the beer than anything. Laughing to myself as I caught the flicks from eyes to screen to Phillies to screen.

cause, you know…

“Hockey is life”.

so I sat pretty, sipping my beer. Thinking about all the amazing things life has to offer. Other than hockey.

it’s funny how some of the most cathartic moments can be the most mundane.

like hungover snuggles with the dog

Panicking about what this year will look like, did I even like as he laughed into my neck

and she just cuddled in closer
spreading kisses where she could reach, and reminders to breath a little slower

until I felt a little softer.

and realized it’s now a new year, with new mistakes, new memories, and new feelings

but the same little best friend, willing to snore tucked up beside me

so I’m never quite alone

I guess

I’ve made myself into the woman
I thought I would never have to be

maybe I’m a hypocrite
and that’s something I’ll have to work on.

but why in the hell did you hear me say ‘this is my favourite thing’

and you preceded to give me an itemized list of the reasons you didn’t think it was good enough

and couldn’t tell you were breaking pieces of me, as you continued on through the pages and pages

I wanted to show you a piece of me

it wasn’t for you to judge and find wanting.

but that review wasn’t really for me anyways

I might still love you
maybe the thought of me
and you

and the good moments

maybe that’s why it’s so hard

because I haven’t stopped loving all the little moments or the smell of you

i might still love you

cause nothing tastes like that first kiss
and the longer one after that

the trail of clothes, or hat tipped back

maybe, maybe i still do,

but i can’t.

don’t mind if I do
crawl into your lap

seeking the comfort of familiarity
and knowing where the coffee cups are

and the way your sheets feel curled against my legs
and my back against your chest

but
I know we’d mind

so don’t mind me

Its weird having to balance
the rage, the grief, the love, the loss
in the moments where there were helicopter rides and recycle that was never done

i felt like i was crazy? to ask for something so normal - so real. when you were gifting me with other amazing experiences.

till i heard you tell my father i spent that much to make you dinner, when i wasn’t the one that wanted that liquor.

dad told me

he’s always gonna run.

before you ran the first time.

then the second.

and finally, the third. when you fed me to the wolves because it was easier than facing them yourself.

and I didn’t have thick enough skin for that

something I’ve learnt

and maybe grieved along the way

is striving to be something

is so very different

from wanting to want to be something

that requires you to love

and god just to try

more than you fear

and I watched you close that door

over

and over

before I decided to finally walk away

he got me flowers

just because. or maybe not just because, but because I asked him to.

but he got me the ones I actually liked. and paid attention to the way I smiled.

he got me flowers. and I know he wouldn’t hesitate to set up a reminder,

to get me more

he asked me,

between a half cocked grin, and sip of whiskey —

‘Do you make every man fall in love with you?’

and that negroni —

really never tasted sweeter, against my tongue

I am the definition of a god’s love

I may come bearing gifts
Showering you in adoration and devotion
wrapped in the most pleasurable ways
caring for you in ways you have never known
caressing your soul in the most intimate ways

only to leave when you least expect it

left begging at an alter
I’ve vacated and no longer visit

when i told him about you,

about how safe you made me. smiling while i expressed all the ways you made me realize life was worth all the time and relationships, squeals, and terror, messy open mouth kisses, and doing the thing scared!

i was reminded that you were, and always will be, exactly what i needed- right then. and i just hope,

i was exactly what you needed too.