Today I realized
Why we never worked.

The problem was, you were
The only good thing in my life.

When the rest of my life was in shambles,
You were the only good I found everyday.

You took advantage of that.
Because I gave you my all.

But your life, your life was good;
I was just an extra piece of the puzzle.

When you realized that I didn't fit;
You just passed me off because I wasn't
Necessary.

The problem was my life.
I thought you were my life, because I needed
You to be my life.

Too much was going wrong.
Too much was ****** up.
But you were perfect
To me.

The problem was always me.
Me; and my horrible life.

Words are meaningless
When you've been hurt before.
When lies are what you've known,
Words don't hold the same weight.

I hate this feeling.
Like you're slowly distancing yourself
From me.

I hate this feeling.
Like all we have is slowly
Falling apart.

I hate this feeling.
Like everything you say to me
Is untrue.

The snows drifts lazily by,
Falling, flying, soundless.
Working on nights with
Only the snow for company.

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

A blanket of white on the ground.
The same covering the trees around.
Wind blowing the snow in my face.
Honestly, I love this wintery place.
It's home to everything I know.
In January, all we can see is the snow.