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Weeeeeeeeeee

Weeeeeeeeeee

In the belly of my despair
lies the quietest of pleas,
let all my time wilt away
but please, remember me.

I’ll leave come morning,
the night is too long.
Some souls like mine
just aren’t that strong.

Let the carbon
from all my bones
return to the stars
that have always shone,

let my name
linger in your skies
instead of the darkness
from goodbye,

and my god, darling,
promise me this,
let my touch be the one
you’ll always miss.

And when the moon
sings me to sleep,
promise that my heart
is one you’ll always keep.

I need to start my “exercise until you die” routine again where I’d work out and then run until I almost passed out and walked home.

Those were the good old days when I pretended I could run from my problems if I just exhausted myself to the point where I could no longer think about them.

The drum beneath my wrist
sounds a lot like
the ticking of a clock.

There’s a plague in my blood
and my pulse is the ticking
of a clock.

Everything comes to an end,
so, too, should this poem
and all my words.

Poetry and life are one and the same.
They’re beautiful because they end.

quote

"Losing you was a lot like losing a limb -
I miss you in everything that I do."

I promised I’d be better tomorrow.

I’d stop drinking
tomorrow.
I’d lose weight
tomorrow.
I’d talk to you
tomorrow.

Well I still drink,
and I didn’t lose weight,
and I never talked to you again.

Time is a funny thing.
Tomorrow is an expectation,
not the reality.

If only I lived for today,
maybe love wouldn’t have fallen away.

Our future looked a lot like
tea on Tuesday afternoons
and breakfast come Sunday morning,
coffee for the Mondays
that weighed heavy on our hearts.
There was rain and there was sunlight
and a lot of inbetweens,
sitting outside in the shade
while we laughed at the tan lines
from your socks and my sandals.

There were bruises on my hips
and your kisses on my neck,
there were so many sleepless nights.

There was lunch at work
and dinner on a table set for two.
And there was whiskey and wine
and old western movies,
and pajamas and pillow forts
because we both promised to stay young.

And there was rent and grocery lists,
and bills and our favorite snacks,
and my god it was beautiful.

And every day would end,
and maybe that’s when you tasted
goodbye on your tongue,
and maybe that’s why you left
before our future begun.

God gave me a heart
whose every beat was broken
so much so that it echoed
in every word I’ve spoken,

and God gave me a soul
that tore at its seams
so that I could find light
in the darkness of my dreams,

and God gave me this life
and buried love in my pain,
and I have found the strength
to stand once again.

There’s a plague somewhere
behind the walls of my skin,
biting at the air
that keeps me breathing.

There is a scream buried
in the back of my throat,
a plea or a battle cry,
I no longer remember.

But it is there,
heavy like lead,
burdening every word
I have ever said.

I wonder why
The sun still rises
Even though you’re no longer here.

The birds still sing,
the wildflowers grow,
the world turns with or without you.

But you have gone
From my life,
As quick and heedless
as the ending to every poem.

The whole world should stop
the way my heart has.

Tell the doctors to lay me down
by a river or by the sea,
let the current take me away
and carry me to the stars.
I fell in love with saying goodbye
but not when it came to you.
I wanted to be the one
to do all the leaving,
how dare you take that role
before I could.

Sometimes I look at falling stars
and think of giving them my wish,
but you’ve already carried it
to your grave.

Your name will always haunt
the walls of my heart.
It’s a small and cold comfort,
but I hold on to it like a lifeline.

I’ve never breathed easily
and sometimes I think
it’d be easier to stop trying,
But then I remember
that you wouldn’t like that.

So I come up for air
like a new born baby,
gasping and sobbing
and reaching for false light.

I keep thinking tomorrow
will be a better day
but I no longer believe it, anymore.

I hold on to you
in memories and old photographs,
but it just isn’t the same.

You are still the light in my life,
tucked away in the Earth
like a setting sun and its horizon.

I am a flower
or weed or willow,
and I am wilting in place.

I’ve lived long enough, I think.
My heart is more fractured
than a stained glass window.

Hang me in a church,
let the sunlight kiss my skin.

Sing me to sleep
and my god, do not wake me.

I beg you, let me sleep.

The light in my life
is falling
with the setting sun.

Do not leave me alone.

I will not survive
a life without you.