I care less each time
now so adept
at shedding that layer of skin
(the one you touched)
I’ve heard all that shit
about forever
and I believed you while
your tongue was in my mouth
and your lips were on my neck
and your hands were on my back
what does this say about you
with all my love
you are nothing to me now
an echo
of a memory
just another ignorant, privileged, melancholy soul
for me to pity




I’m not the one

I’ll make you fall in love with me

and then

in a plume of silent anger

I’ll make you leave

but I won’t blink or choke

at the thought of never waking up

with your arms wrapped


around me again

and you won’t ever forget

because I get just under the skin

nonchalantly sink into your bones

and I make you feel things

you never understood before

but somehow always desired

like a gift that keeps on giving

a sickness

that never really goes away





allow me to taste
the way the laughter
rolls off your tongue

I almost like the way it hurts
when she leaves
and the ache I feel
in my throat
for the familiar chorus in her voice
or the smell of her shirt

I will memorize the way her sounds feel
wrapped tightly around my bones


I didn’t mean it and I knew

the disappointment perfused

my rotten lungs

if I opened my clenched hand

I could press it with my fingertips

it left a semi-permanent indentation

unintentional… unplanned

but lacking the romanticism

of spontaneity

as were most of the things

but I stayed

I kept my fists closed

and my mouth

but some quiet part of me wanted out

I thought I could silence her

if I reworked the way I’m wired

gave in to your demands

to fit on the pedestal

in a premature illustration

I was disposable

a pipe dream

and you were easy to leave



here felt like a good spot

I can hardly move

with the sky pressing her hands
into my shoulders

how many stars,
would you say,
are twinkling away up there

I want to drink them –
the stars –
thick, obsidian
…I’ll drink the sky, too

the driveway is cold, hard,
beneath my spine

I should go inside
and tuck my body into bed

maybe I shouldn’t have
allowed this

it isn’t the first time

but I couldn’t tell you
what makes me emptier

or if I’ve ever felt whole


think of all the ways
the old love
crept and weaved
under your skin
into your hopeful bones
and made itself at home

with tiny phrases
‘let me in’
‘where have you been’
‘no one’s ever loved you
the way that I
am going to’

sweet sighs, moans
lips that couldn’t stay away
from my own
getting lost
searching, trustworthy eyes

but you are too powerful
and have too much to give
for half-assed and selfish
and you watch them
as they leave
as easily as you let them in