for the first time, being without you isn’t what terrifies me. it is the fact that i am without you, and i’m okay.
Tag: breaking up
The Seance
we drove
with the windows down
even though it wasn’t quite warm
because it wasn’t cold, either.
and the boy with the curly hair
played Meat Loaf with the volume
at 37:
And I would do anything for love
I’d run right into hell and back…
i see your phantom whoosh
past on the side of the road
and wonder if i ever truly
felt your love, or
if it was just a ghost,
too.
we lock eyes.
i laugh a laugh i thought
i’d lost after i met you
and watch you dissolve
in the rearview mirror.
i tried, i tried
so hard not to
step on your toes, even though
sometimes i felt like
you’d intentionally poke them out
under the crack of your door to see if
i might do it anyway.i tried so hard to
make sure
you had room to breath;
that when you looked over your shoulder
i wasn’t always there. even though
sometimes all i wanted to do was kiss you.i let you breathe.
i let you breathe without me.
and i think you realized that
sometimes the air is fresher when you’re alone.
Rehab
I’d shoot you up,
swallow you whole with
a glass of orange juice
in the morning—
inhale you
during my lunch breaks.
I thought that I needed you.
Now my sheets are drenched
in all the words you’ve ever said and
my eyes roll back to replay
your smile until it distorts
into a sneer.
And I can smell your sweat.
I can taste your lips.
I can taste the milk going sour.
You are leaking out of
the bullet holes—out of
all of my pores—but
I know this
is part of getting clean.
My Name Never Really Fit On Your Lips Anyway.
Your grand plans
reflected in your irises but
your mind was never here
with me.
You only knew how to
listen with your ears, so
when I spoke with
my eyes, I could scream and still
not be heard.
Your hands were frantic–always
moving, always reaching, always
grabbing– for something in the future.
You zig-zagged across
stepping stones.
You wanted to crown everything
on your to-do list, and my name
was at the bottom. So
I will check myself off for you,
my dear, because
my name does not belong buried
at the base of your toy chest.