Skies like sheets of shale
floated above our pretty heads,
shedding fat drops of rain
upon an unseasonably warm
December day in Michigan.

I broke free from your grip
beneath our shared plastic umbrella,
ran into the yard
and spun around six times,
arms outstretched like an albatross,
face upturned to the miles and miles
of unbroken grey clouds.

I stopped and called to you,
fly with me.
as my palms turned up
and reached for you, involuntarily.

You laughed, staccato,
and your ambiguous smile
was nothing more than
an ugly daguerreotype
set before a landscape
of compassionate trees.

I'd rather not get wet,
you said

and I think
I've always resented you
for that.

I said your name aloud
in the candlelight,
like a small séance
for unrequited love.

I waited for you to haunt me
with your voice and quiet smile,
and felt a ghost of you
brush my cheek.

But when I reached for you
the candles only flickered
and the room was screaming
with unbearable silence.

So many things that these hands have made
a faded page for which they paid
jaded pain and a heart so splayed
these hands have made a past that stayed

they are capable of making disdain and hate
staying shaky for their aiming fate
stained by debating ways as of late
these hands are making a day that can't wait

grass blades whistle and the winds do rave
the fires rage and can't be staved
there's no way you can be saved
these hands were made to dig your grave

although our paths may never cross
I belong to you
and I don't feel the lonely wicked cold
like I used to
because I know you are out there
somewhere, stranger
haze-gazing
just like me
trudging along the best you can
filling some voids
where you see fit
with a heart that overflows
and understands
although our paths may never cross
you've helped me, stranger
and we are the same
throwing stars in the void
finding joy
in the empty space
of our days

the sky's pulse at dawn
with hungry birds navigating
the veins
of an endless cloudy sea
all pastel and dreary
the enveloping stillness
arouses the senses
awakens the spirit
and in the diffused light
I let go

there are two candles burning
in the dark
one is yours
one is mine
and though the flames
never touch
our lights combined
brighten the room
and I hope you stay
because there's already enough
empty space
in this world

Were it not for you —
I'd wish the world would end.
All stories cut,
Mid sentence.
Humanity stubbed out,
Like a wilting cigarette.
Cataclysmic delight!
Even in our state of disrepair,
I love you too **** much.
Thankfully,
We get on so much better —
Now that we don't talk.
Our love,
Is death
by a thousand cuts.
Stinging us softly,
Into submission.

You never
gave me a purpose.
You didn't
"complete" or define me.
I never understood
that need.
I was never incomplete,
Just broken.
I was
before you.
I am
despite your
destructive indecision.
**** your boredom.
**** your lies.
What came next was no surprise.
I was moving forward,
Regardless.
You just gave me motion sickness.