tears don't come anymore
so i'm heaving
in a dark room
illuminated with the light of the laptop
displaying my last picture
of you

The only thing that hurt more than losing you was


                                                losing


        me


                                     too.

ITS TAKING EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO TAKE EVERY ONE OF THOSE LITTLE ROUND WHITE KILLERS EVERYTHING I HAVE NO HOPE ANYMORE NO WAKING UP FOR A TOMORROW WITH POSSIBILITIES I HAVE NOTHING YOU TOOK EVERYTHING WHEN YOU LEFT **EVERYTHING

"I never wanted to be happy. I just wanted you."

my body shatters upon impact with any
innocent glance belonging to someone
i feel is capable of the damage
i have become so fragile under
sometimes i feel like the dishes
you smashed against your walls
and other times i feel like the
dripdripdrip coming from your
bathroom sink faucet, it's there
but you don't notice it.
the point is, all i am are fractions
of you while the real me is
trapped in every empty sigh
you released every time i said
"i love you" in hopes you'd repeat
but knowing you wouldn't

your teeth are still dug into my
shoulder, your nails have made
a graveyard of my back
i am going to pull every single
one of them out and i hope
i hope you feel it

i notice these moments
more than anything else
you can call me "beautiful"
we can make love to my
favorite songs, but even
though i take that home
with me, it stays in the
bag i brought instead of
the pores in my body.
there's a silent movie in
my head that replays
e  v  e  r  y  s  i  n  g  l  e
gas station, back road
beaten up motel moment
that makes me certain that
you are a front cover to
my back one, & in between
the two of us, we'll create
a story that'll put the bible
in the drawer next to the
motel bed to shame.

1AM, i was
gently shoved
out of a dream
in which i was
thrown into some
type of parallel
where

you
      and
              i

had never spoke
more than a mere
"excuse me"
walking into school
one morning
holding a glass door
open

i have spent
the last 5 hours
trying to get
this scene out of
my head.

even in a universe
where you had
never squeezed my
hand twice, like a
pulse, or sat on
your porch with
your cigarettes we
shared and two
glasses of orange,
i left my lipstick
on everything
you'd have thought
i would be more
permanent --

even then
i spent the rest
of my dream
thinking
about how
7:45AM
looks so
good on
you.