The other day I woke up to the smell of your absence clinging to my skin. I took 8 showers that day and I am still not quite sure if it's possible to feel a phantom limb where there wasn't one in the first place.

2. The way that squirrels cross the street makes a lot of sense all of a sudden. I'm sure no one told you that you have a way of making their skin crawl in the most desperate way. I still can't eat on your side of the bed without choking on the residue your dreams left.

3. I read the obituaries like I used to read the creases your smile left, they're not meant for me.

4. Stars manage to keep their deaths a secret for years I wish I were as committed to forgiveness as they were. I stuck my hands in scalding water today and left them there until they begged for redemption, it sounded a lot like your name.

5. It took me two years to find out your middle name, that is not a metaphor. I used to think that the slower I said it the sweeter it would taste. I stick my fingers down my throat hoping to find the words you left there I'm so sorry for being too weak to say them back then I'm so sorry they couldn't make you stay. I drew highway maps on the palms of my hands that led me right back into my own arms, how is that for irony.

6. Television.

7. Lips that don't bruise when they touch my own, I want a love like a car crash. I want painful, and desperate, and no good for me, I want to not want this.

8. I've blown out so many candles I'm suprised I haven't put all the stars out yet. If the universe were capitalist shooting stars would be marketing to my demographic. I would be the poster child for wishes that will never come true.  

9. Novels that end exactly as you hoped they would

10. Nearly 160,000 people died in the 1945 bombing of Hiroshima, Japan. 69% of the city was left in ruin. The radiation caused by the explosion was said to effect those living in Hiroshima for the next 30 years. From what I know, hospital walls are lined with cynicism and pain and I can't think of anything worse than oblivion than near oblivion.

It's May
And I'll kiss you by the light of your still decorated Christmas tree.

It's May,
And the rain comes down heavy from the dark clouds that lurk at every corner.

It's May
And we've only got a couple more months together.

It's May,
And I don't really care that you're leaving
Because it's May,
And for right now,
I'm happy.

you will meet a boy and he won’t know how to love you
but he will want to touch you until you smell like his hands.
you are not required to let him.
you are not less of a person if you do.

some nights you will stay up drinking until the sun
greets you like butter on your toast,
and it will hurt in the most exquisite way you have ever known.
there is some pain that we are better for having felt.

some nights shame will come to you like a dog you kicked
in fear the night before,
bruised and aching, but letting yourself be something
you never thought you could be
is not something you need ever apologize for.

the friends you make without trying are the only ones
you’ll ever need.
the friends whose bed you can sleep in without fear
are the best ones you’ll ever find.

being afraid is the worst thing you’ll ever do to yourself.
fear is a neighbor who bring you sugar
without you even having to ask,
but I promise you that leaving your front door open
will let so many better things in.

and when you feel small, remind yourself
that at the very least
you are a productive member of the water cycle.
you drink, and you cry.

I left a piece of myself on the roof
And though I'm thousands of miles away,
It tethers me.

We look at each other
As if we're to kiss.
We speak empty words
And false promises.

My parents.
They call me
"Headstrong."
"Obsessive."
"Crazy."

But what about passionate?

I know I'm young,
But there's a spark,
A flame,
A fire.
One that is far too strong to be extinguished by the words
"Headstrong."
"Obsessive."
Or even the dreaded "Crazy."