there's a part of me that keeps
checking in to see how
your life is going. I can't shield
my curiosity from the pain
when I see that you have replaced
me in each pose
every sunset
and a single smile that
was not catapulted at me.

There's a huge disconnect when I see your face
that memories have burned themselves
far too much to resemble ashes
and as I try to rearrange the picture
it seems the person I knew
does not exist anymore.
the person I tried so hard to forget
when you were the only one
I wanted to remember
I can't rush back to the start
and not notice how much you've changed.

One day, maybe in two years, I’ll eventually
finally experience the rush
I’ve dreamt of the future
that I so terribly ached
for, that I would undoubtedly  risk
the factors of throwing away used

items that I no longer cherished, used
people only needed to be a stand-in, and eventually
the risk
will not catch up to me, since the rush
of real happiness overshadows the ache
like a penumbra clearing away in the future.

But it’s terrifying knowing that the future
will become a washed up, used
daydream to quiet the ache
I thought would never eventually
stop the overflowing rush
knowing that my biggest dream is entirely a risk.

I am willing to take the risk
so that my deserved  future
will swell over the echoed rush
coffee beans stained  used
cups will eventually
wash away ache.

My heart quickens
so terribly fast when I listen to the voicemail
that I've gotten an interview
for a job I blindly applied to.
That dreaded "tell me about yourself"
question, I respond with a different answer every
single time. I don't really
know much about myself
except that I change as often
as a song in shuffle,
the clouds drift in seasons,
rising from sleep
after a long night.