There’s a soft sound to it:
the way your bare feet touch the floor,
or the way your hair falls into your eyes,
or how you sigh right before you fall asleep.

There’s an eager emotion to it:
the way your mouth quivers after a kiss,
or the way your eyes look as you lean in close,
or how you push your body into mine.

There’s a fleeting feeling to it:
the way your keys jangle as you walk out the door,
or the way your toothbrush never stays more than a day,
or how you’re too kind to wake me when you leave.

There’s a rare reality to it:
the way your phone lights up with texts from her,
or the way your voice sounds telling me you’ll be late,
or how you haven’t been around in weeks.

you came rolling in like thunder

with your lips parted and wet

like the leaves on the trees

even hours after it has rained


a hurricane

of the greatest proportions

So many of these words have been about you...
I've written them during my darkest hours,
in the middle of the night after too many drinks,
that were accompanied by too many cigarettes,
after I had tossed and turned for what seemed like forever,
with you stuck in my head; those lingering aftershocks.
After listening to so many sad songs with the volume too loud,
I opened this computer and put down how you made me feel,
typed out the words that I never got to say to you,
poured out all the sorrow, and regret, and mistrust;
the jarring color of it, all viole(n)t red.
Let it soak through the keys and bloom into this portrait of you:
A picture of who you really were...a snapshot...a Polaroid.
And now that its finally tangible,
I can see all your sharp edges and black shadows
and how much I wanted to smooth you out and cast a light.
I can feel everything I wanted you to be
and how much it hurt when you disappointed me.

I hold your picture in my hands that I created with my words
and think about the all those depths you brought me to...
All those nights I spent wishing things were different.
All those hours I spent wishing you still loved me.
All those minutes I spent wishing I didn't cry over you.
All those seconds I spent wishing I never met you.
And I think I finally have the strength to rip you apart.
And forget you....for good.

I’ve been called beautiful

By a boy barely fourteen

As he held my hand

In an alleyway in my hometown

Fast forward six years

As he held my hand in an airport

He told me the same thing

Through eyes filled with tears



I’ve been told I was loved

By a man halfway through his twenties

As I sat in his passenger seat

And I looked away smiling

Fast forward five years

As we sat crossed legged in our empty apartment

He told me the same thing

After he asked for my key



I’ve been called a lovely chaos

By a man I never really knew

As he laid next to me in bed

And brushed the hair out of my eyes

Fast forward two months

As I looked him in the eyes for the last time

I told him the same thing

As I begged him to stay

Yellow, flaxen hair lays like a tumbleweed on your upper back

And your shoulder blades pucker the skin between them,

Highlighting that birthmark you've always hated.

The cotton blend sheets cover you so strategically,

Leaving just the half-moon of your breast exposed.

You must be cold because goosebumps line your arms

Creating a passage in Braille I'll never be able to decipher.

The milky-white skin of your back rises and falls with your breath

And as you exhale, one singular strand of hair blows in the wind.

 

But even with your head turned the other way,

I can picture the freckles fall across the bridge of your nose

And see the furrow in your brow with each passing dream

I want to reach out and lay my hand on any part that is you

Feel your warm skin against my calloused hands

But to touch you would wake you

So I let you sleep

I thought I could fit love into a box
And stuff all of its contents into one container
Set it on a shelf and pull it down when the timing was right

I thought I could label it
And categorize all the feelings, people, places, and things
Use colors to code it; all the yellows, reds, and blues

I thought love was black and white
And it either existed or it did not
Waited patiently for it to return when it slipped from my grasp

I thought I could stifle it
And smother it until there was no room to breathe
Hold it down and watch it take its last breath

I thought I could salvage our love
And rescue it from the depths of the deepest ocean
But there was no saving us.
Instead, I just let it go.