The weight of time gets heavier if you let it
Said I love you, don't know if I meant it
I wait in the soil, like fresh turned grass
Holding my breath, hoping this will pass
Each passing moment is worse
But nothing truly hurts
I've heard your body does not remember pain
That it forgets it as quickly as it passed
If it is not pain then how do I know you
How do I remember
More than that, how do I let go

You say sleep when we're dead
I'm tired now

i. you to explain your anger

ii. you to slip slivers of ice
between the stacking of my spine
so that when I shiver it feels like an icicle shattering

iii. my tongue to remember your name so well, but unable to speak it for fear that it would be a potent spell and conjure out of the air

iv. you to tell me I'm pretty as if I didn't not already know

v. you to hold the gold of my heart as the highest currency, a debt paid against myself with every act of true self or kindness

vi. you to linger here like the taste of licorice and tobacco

What secrets does the carcass of summer divulge
None greater than the barren skeleton of trees can disguise

The magic in the trees is aging
Though differently than I

I find no comfort
In the muteness of my thoughts
Silence goes before me
Bringing nothing back
Are my words
No longer my own
Soft at a fresh day
With not a single light shone

here we are again
face to sky
with a full wolf moon

i don't know this road
the journey all to familiar
as the grains of sand under your nails
after a day clawing at the ocean

do you hear the depths roar
or does she whisper to you
i faintly remember her voice

when i am high in the mountains
call out to me
like i wish you would

i have only now
learned of my brokenness
i have only now learned
of things beyond my knowledge

how many times
must i admit my fault
how many times
must i pull my foot
out of my mouth
i do not relish the taste of soil
you know i am a foolish fool
i cannot speak for you bitterness

my truth is different now
though unlived, uncovered, unbound
all but unrelinquished

i am swept under the rug of your past life
the splinters of the floor flaking away from the boards
we too will turn to dust