I drank until you weren’t real.
People don’t talk to me.They talk to my shadow,my body.They don’t talk to my soul.They never did.
sometimes I kiss people I shouldn’t kiss and let them unbutton my jeans sometimes I leave English class without asking and walk in angular circles until I can hear the blood rushing under my skin sometimes I run until I can’t breathe sometimes I sit in the rain sometimes I sleep for six hours in the middle of the day
sometimes I drive too fast and listen to my music so loud that it hurts sometimes I drink until everything goes black and I don’t remember talking about you all night (even though I do)
sometimes I cry about books and about people who died hundreds of years ago sometimes I don’t cry even though I want to more than anything sometimes I ignore the people I love sometimes I hold myself to keep everything in because you are not here to do it
sometimes I think I’m alive sometimes I think I probably never will be
We would be together and have our books and at night be warm in bed together with the windows open and the stars bright.
She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.
I am in love with a boy
who ripped me apart
to keep himself warm.
We open ourselves like thick oak doorways,
draw out the welcome mats
with years of dust and dirt ingrained.
My eyes are windows,
he pulls the shades shut.
Everyone carries around something
but my hands are cracked and swollen
from the weight.
are always working so hard
at lessening themselves.
are always working so hard
at owning them.
But I was not unlocked.
My name was never ‘Home’.
A poet’s work … to name the unnamable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world and stop it from going to sleep.
March 4, 2013
I was unpacking when I heard you walk in. I had on light pink lipstick that I found at the bottom of a box. You put a few things on the counter and handed me my car keys. I kissed you and asked if you could help me move the bed. You said you needed to talk. I keep replaying this over and over in my mind. I don’t think I’ll be able to unpack the rest of our boxes.
April 4, 2013
It’s been a month since you left.
Mark says you’re not coming back.
I can’t sleep.
Are you awake?
May 4, 2013
I finally went to the doctor like you had begged me to.
You were right and yeah, I’ll be fine.
June 4, 2013
I sold my engagement ring at a pawn shop today. I bought expensive lipstick and flowers. I also bought a lot of beer and a carton of cigarettes. I’ve lost a lot weight since you last saw me. My friends from high school that I haven’t seen in years hardly recognize me. It’s weird being back in this town without you. I spend most of my afternoons at the beach. I saw a sea turtle today while I was swimming. I miss eating breakfast food at midnight with you.
July 4, 2013
I stumbled across the video of you in the car singing Taylor Swift. I deleted it before it played all the way through but I have to admit it made me laugh. I can’t remember how your voice sounds saying my name. I broke down and called you. Thank you for not answering.
August 4, 2013
I dropped my cigarette in my lap when you drove past me today.
September 4, 1012
I went on a date.
He thinks Bud Light is “quality beer”.
It just isn’t going to work out.
October 4, 2013
It doesn’t hurt anymore to say your name.
November 4, 2013
Hope you’re doing well.
December 12, 2013
Thank you for setting me free.