Your skies don't have to be so gray. Your lips shouldn't tremble the way the clouds do every time they're about to give way. Darling, you don't have to be so lonesome anymore.

have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?

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

Stop using your wrist as violins and the knife as your bow. Your symphony shouldn't be so morbid. The notes you're trying to produce aren't the ones you're longing for.

They asked me about you today and I swear I almost said, "I'm asking for him too." It's been months, in the realm of time but years in the realm of my heart, since the last time we spoke. I don't understand your absence. I don't understand the silence you've left me with. You said you were almost out of that hole you were in. You said you were fine.
I thought we were fine. I'm left dumbfounded. I'm left with the memories that we had. I'm left. That's it. I'm left. I'm all there is when it comes to the story of us. Maybe I should stop saying that. Maybe I should stop referring to our relationship as "the story of us" cause quiet frankly there's nothing left to be said. There's no story to be said. There was a beginning but there was never a written end. Maybe that's what kills me. Maybe it's the fact that we may have came to an end but there's no words to confirm what I feel. Maybe that's what I need; confirmation. Or maybe I'm just hoping that you'll reply, that maybe you'll miss me enough to see how I'm doing and if life's been treating me well. Do you ever wonder about how I'm doing? Do I ever cross your mind? Does it ever occur to you that I'm longing for the time when you reply to me? Do you ever think about how your absence affects me? I think about you. I tried not to at first but then slowly you started creeping in the back of my mind. Then soon enough you became a thought I wanted to ponder on. You became a part of my life again and you didn't even have to try. I'm bound to you and I used to think that was a good thing. I used to think we had a connection strong enough to withstand anything. I say 'used to' because I'm not sure that me being bound to you is a good thing anymore. I'm afraid to admit that you've became toxic to me again. And maybe it's not the way I want it to be, but that's the way it has come to be and I just need to accept that. It may take some time but I will until the day you come back to me and say you miss me too. Until the day you ask about me. Until the day you come back.

Isolation is so bittersweet. You build your walls to watch them crumble in the way the mountains seem to bow every time the earth begins to throw her fit. But somewhere along the crashing of your empire, you enjoyed the free fall that engulfed your being. You got so lost in the chills produced along the back of your neck that you forgot about the inevitable. You forgot about the force in which you were falling and soon enough you weren't able to distinguish the shards of your heart from the rubble.