this is to be read with she or he in front of every sentence, respectively*

she
rose up from the crooked stacks of books lining the shelves.
dusted her jeans.
glanced at the wooden floor.
made a note of the intricate workings.

he
slid his glasses higher up his nose.
looked over the balcony.
twisted the pen in his hand.
sighed deeply.
wondered.
waited.

she
grabbed her bag.
aligned the scattered thoughts towards the door.
left a trail of vanilla behind.
didn't stop to look back.

he
watched the life over the edge of the height.
lingered over a few, passed over many.
made up lives and people in his head.
wished they were having a better day than him.
waited.
wondered.

she
walked ahead of everyone else.
didn't stop to look in the windows of the welcoming shops.
didn't stop at the scent of roses from the flower shop she passed.
almost retched as it reached her nose.
was hidden amongst the bustle of a million.
didn't stop to look back.

he
felt it again.
tried to ignore it.
felt the trial and error.
tried to do what his therapist tried telling him.
climbed over the wall, separating him from the people and gravity.
debated what he needed.
waited.
wondered.

she
felt the sun on the back of her neck.
felt her mind automatically go to his hand resting there.
pinched herself.
encased herself with blank walls.
stretched on blankets of white paper.
willed herself to focus on her way home.
debated.
deleted.
doubted.

he
found all that was left on his tongue was a name.
wanted to know that name.
wanted to savour that name.
wanted to wrap himself inside that name.
wanted to pour himself into it.
wanted parts of him to evaporate and curl upwards.
wanted nothing but to let himself loose.
was tired of waiting.
was tired of wondering.

she
let her head drag her home.
let her mind stay focused on the forgetting.
carefully fingered through each memory and set it on fire.
felt herself burn, inside and out.
let herself fall gently, like ash in air.
reeled backwards.
was surprised at the contact of the door on her stiff back.
made a note to burn all her notes.

he
found a way back to home while still seated on the metal rods jammed into the ground.
found his peace in a name.
found every touch in the whispers of a wind.
found what he was wondering.
found what he was waiting for.
let it run through him like an old song after a few years.
let it burn.
let it burn him to pieces.

she
never knew the difference between let leave and let go.
never knew what to expect of a set heart.
had never known just how much her factual heart could collide with his guitar-string soul.
never ever knew.

he
lingered on the edge of the end.

she
remembered all her forgotten forevers.

he
thought how a morning walk could lead to an event that would probably be on the morning papers by tomorrow.

she
let her regrets flow through her like the blood in her veins.

he
went over the head tail head tail head tail.

she
fell back to the does he knows

he
fell back to the will she even cares

she
wanted to run to him.

he
wanted her.

she
was too quiet.

he
thought too loud.

she
wondered.
waited.

he
stopped wondering.
stopped waiting.

never knew fever until your touch.

drink her voice; travel, whisper, capture.

I remember the day
you described me
as "irrepairable"
and the very muscles holding my heart
faltered
the beat beginning to sound
like a mistake.

I remember the night
you stood by the threshold
holding the broken bits of cell phone
that the blossoming anger
(you were still so beautiful, face made up in rage)
strangled
straight
out.

I remember the evenings
the distance between
the spaces between our fingers
roared and mocked
sped up my pathetic heart
made my vulnerable breath
stain the window
which you grimaced over
forgetting how once
it had sighed your name
in your mouth.

I remember your face
as it stood over the facade
I put up
so that you would
find it in yourself
that the heat of my heart
was faltering.
that the strings holding me together
snipped, snipped, snipped till there
was nothing
but a collection
of maybes
and what ifs.

I remember my eyes
as they stare into themselves
in the cracked, haphazard
mirror
framing their deadness.

I remember once
they used to
have their own life.
a life
built
on
you.

i am in love with:
people i have never met
places i have never been


i am in love with:
things i have not understood
things i will never understand

i am in love with:
touches that haven't reached me yet
touches that cascade down me, treat me like the rocks massacred by the waterfall

i am in love with:
words that fly away before i can breathe them in
words that drip down their brim till i am covered with their residue

i am in love with:
gazes that have not yet met me
eyes that will steal a look just so they can find another reason to breathe

i am in love with:
the cracks that have not found their way around my body
the residual forces that have not yet littered me in their attempt to move on

i am in love with:
feelings
words

i am in love with:**
how i am so loud and quiet
all at the same time
so that people forget
that i can suffer too