Here we are again
The same place we always end up.
It's like when the day ends
and everyone else goes to bed,
we find this feeling more comfortable
than any bed ever could be.
And so we end up going days
upon days
without sleep.
We are forever stuck in this cycle of wanting to
but not needing to
needing to
but not wanting to
and ultimately not being able to want
or need
to admit the truth of what's really happening
behind closed doors.
Like one of those families
that show up to church on Easter Day
and Christmas Eve,
but curse gods name every other day of the year,
we sit here
and pretend that we aren't doing this again.
That I'm not sitting here
telling you I love you,
and you're not sitting there
staring at me
not knowing what to say.
Just like old times
we would rather pretend
that this is just an awkward silence,
totally normal.
Normal like missing two weeks of work
because you're too distraught
over someone's lack of love for you
to get out of bed.
Normal like daydreaming
of burning my skin with bleach
to erase the feeling of your hands.
When I say "I love you",
you say absolutely nothing,
and I flinch
as if your fist is inches from my body.
We sit here
and pretend to be entirely too calm,
pretend like I'm not going to go home
and try to **** myself again.
Pretend like you really didn't see the texts,
not that you were ignoring them.
Every moment of my life
feels like this,
I cannot remember a time
when every ounce of my time
was not occupied by feeling this.
There are photos of me with people
who call themselves friends
all over the Internet,
which proves I used to get enjoyment
from things other than you,
but now,
in this inescapable moment,
I can't even remember their names.
I'm the type of person
who finds solace in routine,
but sitting here explaining to you
how my dying body is decaying
from the inside out
because of this sadness,
because of this overwhelming love,
explaining this to you
every day of my life
only to be greeted with silence yet again,
is this furthest thing from comfort
that I have ever had to encounter.

while september cicadas
were singing my neighbors to sleep
i was up walking holes in my shoes
over love once lost
so many poems ago
that the only thing i remember
about the house at 38th & bluestone
is that it reeked of alcohol and is
as i'm sure of it
still saturated in perfume
and abandoned laughter
but that's not the point
give me a minute
what i'm trying to say
is i always thought god
enjoyed watching things leave me
it makes me wonder
what was on his mind
that night in september
when i stooped to cough
or tie my shoelaces
i no longer remember why
but i recall their trajectory
the way gravity cradled my hands
and brought them crashing back to earth like a 747
they landed inches away
from a scrap of crumpled loose leaf
folded in half like the smiles
of my relatives on a holiday truce
you see, lately i've been looking for scars in the newspaper
i find myself checking the obituary
for my former selves since the day i found your suicide letter
maybe that's why i can never explain my obsession with history
maybe archeology is just a funeral
in reverse
maybe hell is just rewinding home movies
or watching confetti
turn back into photographs
i never told anyone
the reason the doors to the gun cabinet in my family's house are locked not because they are afraid
i will take my life
but because sometimes
i sing them birthday songs
on the day you died
it makes me think
of how rooms only echo
when they are empty

*you know
i never echoed until you died

and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it

ground zero
i become aware of boundaries
i am a dog chasing cars
i sing your voicemail to sleep
there are no surgeon general warnings
to tell me that
the objects in the mirror
are more depressed than they appear
so how do i tell you
that there are parts of my life
that move slower
without you in them?
or that i look for you every day
in emails & unanswered calls
in the sunrises
i didn't choose to be awake to watch
that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them
   *stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip
   stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant
   stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me
after
people always ask
what was loving her like?
after a really long silence
i just say
"it must be nice"
but i never say
it's watching paint dry
i never say
it's a window seat in hell
i don't tell anyone
about the dreams
where i am reading you
bedtime stories
each one is a different way you die
& every time i can never save you
dreams where what i think
are angels in my bedroom
are just homeless versions
of myself you never loved
i have dreams
where i pay someone to shoot me
just to see if you would cry
just to see
if you would cradle my body
i don't tell people
that loving you is like
playing piano
for someone who can't hear
that it's hitting repeat
on my favorite song
& forgetting the words
every time it starts over
that it's finding out
there's no milk after you already
poured yourself a bowl of cereal
it's getting locked in the dark
& being told to
look on the bright side
that loving you is like
being reminded of what it felt like
the first time
you accidentally let go
of a balloon as a child
it's drowning without the water
it's the feeling you get
when you start to dance
& the song ends

you got a fast car
i want a ticket to anywhere
maybe we can make a deal
maybe together
we can get somewhere
anyplace is better
starting from zero
got nothing to lose
maybe we'll make somethin
me myself i got nothin to prove

i've been wondering
when it stops
people say it stops
when you want it to
but how do i tell that
to my dreams
when all i can think about
is running up to kiss you
in the parking lot of anywhere
it makes me wanna drink
and say everything
like sometimes i think about
what it would've been like
if i had let you go
when i
was still strong enough to do it
like i never knew hell
had such a pretty voice
like i tried to make it all day
without saying
"wish you were here"
like lately i've been going back
to all the places we've been
to see what it's like without you
it is the worst game
of hide & seek
every time i close my eyes
to count
you just go home
i seem to only wear my seat belt
on days you call
on days you're all *never been better
and i just wanna tell you
how much I hate window shopping
and daylight goodbyes
you just sit there
when you could say anything
you could tell me
you noticed i started drinking again
you could even make it up
you could say you miss me, too
you could say
you missed me so much
that the other day
you accidentally bought
two coffees instead of one
you could tell me
how you've been
without me
that you sleep so much better
these days
without having to worry
you can say what you have
to just don't say leaving
was like shooting fish in a barrel
cause i swear i'm nostalgic
for things i pretended were real
and i swear
i don't want a seance
until there's something
worth bringing back
take me back
to all the places i tried to love you
back to a time
where i knew my name  
without you having to say it

*you got a fast car
is it fast enough
so we can fly away
you gotta make a decision
leave tonight
or live & this way

Goodnight pumpkin, I luv you. L-U-V U.
Dear mom,
Nothing ****** me off more than misspelling the word Love.
If you’re not willing to put two seconds into a text or even a letter
to spell it correctly, then you need a ******* dictionary.
The only time you looked into a dictionary was to find words big enough so they could fit through ears but not into my brain making it easier for lies to flow out of your mouth like it is second nature.
The only truth that ever spit out of your mouth like lemon juice, was when you told us, not all lives have happy endings.
But when you were still here, and I was only eight,
you let me watch disney movies so I could learn my own fate.
One of the movies taught me that if I said Ohana means family,
that you’d respond with,
family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten
But you left your kids to pursue Your happiness,
Now every time you leave to Pennsylvania another memory of us flies away from the airport you call a body just like the planes you get on,
Your lies create a tornado that destroys everything in it’s path,
and my life is a flat ground so this spiral of emotions won’t stop until you do.
You circled your yin-yang arms around me for the first time in the hospital, that was the same night people in white coats handed you a certificate with my name written on it, Now anytime my name is brought up in a subject you pull your hoodie over your head as a sign of embarrassment.
I want you to feel the pain you have been giving me for the last 2
years when you hear this poem.

I want you to realize that you’re the reason my feelings are
scribbled down to make a mess out on paper.

Every night I make a new river with my tears and when I realize you are
lying to me, it makes waves of depression
and those waves, are created by earthquakes of anger.
These waves are strong enough to break through any hoover dam
made up of antidepressants and pills that will only make me what
you want me to be which is “normal”?
If you tell someone you love them at least have the audacity to
mean it.
Be a the definition of a mom and care about us and our
feelings, and not just your own.
Mom, I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U
Ohana means Family, but no one said family would last forever. But
you always will last forever, in my heart

How many hours did you spend digging in the yard of your childhood home searching for the note your father never really left
Have you ever even admitted that the reason your walls are lined with broken picture frames is because you tore them apart looking for him
When you finally found him how long did you try to get up the courage to punch him before realizing you were standing in a graveyard?