icanfeelyou

I write about the sandman
and I tell you “It’s a true story”
the hole that “leads to neverland”
is really…
in my back yard
and is, the size of my fist
and it could
p
     u
          l
             l
you through it just as easily as it was dug.

I write about the deep blue ocean
and I tell you “It’s dark, crushing me”
the ocean is suffocating and
it’s where I 
re
si
de
when you’re not with me.

I write about my bruise kissed eyes
and I tell you “I can’t imagine sleeping”
not without you, your breath against my ear
and the smell of cinnamon and strawberries
I
tell 
you
“the white noise” is what helps me sleep
but really, it’s the certainty of knowing 
you can be so close that I can 
(almost) feel you.

I write about the dreams I have about you
and I tell you “I can feel you sometimes”
but I feel you every night, I can imagine your skin
your hair, fingertips, light touches as you trace my body
do 
you
even
know?
The question is simple, stupid even
I can 
f e e l you.

I write about you, mostly
and I tell you “I love you”
and sometimes you question the truthfulness 
and it hurts, but I question you too
in 
s  i  l  e  n  c  e
and I try hard not to make it known.

I write about how you break my heart
and I tell you nothing and let you believe in the hurt
but you could never break me

you.
       keep.
               me.
                    complete.
andicanfeelyou.

Wasting Away

Time passes through sand
an hourglass, the slow fade of
f o r e v e r and the 
promise of happy memories
lost in the darkness of the 
s     l      o     w           f      a        d       e
and caught between the lines 
of imaginary numbers

We’re all wasting time here
broken and empty, scattered across
this ocean of regret 
we’re running out of time
holding on by strings of shame
and bitterness and doubt and
maybe there’s still an ounce
of humanity to this

Maybe
s   o   m   eday this
whatever this is
will be something
maybe someday
this
….
maybe some–
——————–day

we wont be
-r–
—-u—
–n-
——–n—-
—i—–
————–n——-
—-g——–
o——-u————t

o
       f

  t
        i
   m
         e

s/h/a/m/e

S

I think the be/t part
i/ laying here awake
exhau/ted
body /haking
and knowing
you’re nothing
but a/hamed of me 

H

I t/ink a lot
about the symmetry
of your face
and t/e way your
/air curls just right
around your ears 

A

/nother d/y goes by
/nd /nother /nd /nother
until /ll th/t’s left is bones
ground to dust
–/nd my love for you 

M

The first day of fall
and all I want to do
is hold your hand. 

E

I had almost forgott/n
about /vrything
until my phon/ lit up
and you took th/ tim/ to
/xplain /vrything I alr/ady
kn/w.