the only time i miss you is every single day

you speak of stars and sand. uncharted maps for which you already know the path.

i speak of dark and cold sheets. broken compasses and faulty legends.

i'm alone here in this hotel, while you wander off into the world, taking notes and casting charm.

my words fall on drunk ears, eager but tainted. i make company with empty chairs.

you prefer seats that move and feet that take a risk.

i prefer hands that guide and somewhere safe to hide at the end of the night,

you say it's simple and i disagree

because i can't live the story when i've already seen the ending.

but we're the same you see.

we're infinite.

the panic room

watch for the signs of destruction. nights spent staring out car windows. holding back sobs. endless streams navigating cheeks for reasons unknown. the satisfying feeling of an all-too-empty stomach. when hungry feels beautiful. slashing locks and infusing colors. change in pace, taste, atmosphere. drastic changes in habits. sudden unrequited obsession. needing more. needing more. needing more. nights spent alone, afraid, replayed conversations that never took place.

she doesn't have to open her eyes to know that this place is all too familiar. an empty room that looked so promising from outside the door. she thought he'd be here. well, he was, they'll say. yes, i know. he asked to stay, they'll continue, but you told him to leave. no, you left. or was it both? which way did it go? she can't remember exactly. it's the comfort of knowing. only, you'll beginning to realize you don't know at all. hands held in secret. but not in silence. an unwanted hush blankets affection in a smothering fashion. you won't submit to terms, so instead you sit alone with a stomach ache of jealousy and teeth turned cold in the grind. smokey familiar bass lines fill your head, leave no room for thoughts. you're always coming back to the same place, the comfort is the source. other's words seem more fitting than your own. as if anyone listen to the things you never say. and that was one of the issues, you know, the fact you hear what i say and not what i mean. can't you understand i need the fight? i need this to be worth something so i can be worth something. but you aren't looking for a challenge. you think you've let it go but you've got a state full of reservations. abandonment. a harsh, bitter word. it bit the ears, did it sting as it left your tongue? i feel sick at the thought that i could've hurt you so much. a boat stuck at sea without the wind, without so much as a breeze. accentuated vowels emphasize feeling. the feeling has to match melody, and the words dipped in wit. so many words, you see. when was the last time you had so many words? it's as if you found a lost locked box and self destruction is the key. the bass line gets louder, deafening all the naggings you don't understand. remember sunset porches? remember thunderstorms and mix cds and the first time you broke a heart? dried flowers wait by the bedside, forgotten only until you need to remember. this is usually when the box comes out, i still kept your letters, every one. i won't speak to you now, but i always miss the quick goodbye and deadly drives. anxious for the unknown. you don't understand the most important part you don't even know you're missing. the music swells, like a lump of words in my throat that i can't bring myself to say. this is it, i hope you know, there's no going back from this. it's what we were always working toward. 

Remember this:

remember when we unlearned and eager. remember when we had best friends with willing ears that listened to every tiny detail. remember when we didn't have access to a world of information at our fingertips, disposable and granted. remember when there was someone who knew everything about you. someone who's line was busy every time you called, because they were simultaneously trying to call you. when words weren't needed. when presence was comfort. when silence was enough. remember when we didn't need to tell the whole world everything all the time. remember privacy. remember respect. remember social rules and expectations. remember when calling wasn't desperate, it was flattering. remember when instead of texts, we had hour long conversations.

how can you see someone every day and still learn new details in every conversation? why can you find out more about someone's aura on the internet than in person? when did we lose the desire to share details in flesh but becoming willing to spill our guts in digital? how come you will tell the world but you won't tell me? when did secrecy become a standard?




we use, now, not our tongues, but our fingertips. a weapon once used for intimacy, poison has turned it into ruthless boldness. those fingertips that once traced collarbones and goosebumps have traded warm blood for cold plastic. the methodical clicking soothes a wanderlust soul. i look at you and you smile. i look again and wait for your attention to trickle back in my direction. i'd say it's a need for constant communication, but it isn't just interaction you're looking for - it's social justification, satisfaction, reaction, validation. ahh yes, there's the ticket. you need approval, reassurance.

we sit upstairs on the hard wood floor. i sit, you stand. you walk back and forth. you check and check again. i wait. you pause. i stretch and you move. i pause and you fill, unknowingly. i weigh and you wander. i ask and you answer. i let you speak for hours. you break, respond. i wait. you break again. i wait. i disengage. you continue. we fall off balance. i wait. you catch back up, or perhaps i do. i smile, you smile. we link. we move rhythmically. you break, we unlink. we restart.

a modern light.

your breathing regulates. you sigh a note of contentment, the one you only make when you're asleep. you're so comfortable in my arms, and i can't help but feel like this will be the last time i'll ever get to hold you. i pull you closer, one hand tangled in your hair while the other traces words on your skin, "i don't want to lose you." but i daren't speak them. i know what you'd say, i have to go. this is my job, you know that. there are bigger things out there than you and me. and i know, oh god how i know. and i could never ask you to stay, even if that's all it took. just one word. stay. but that's never been my style and i suppose you'll find that out soon enough. i can feel your heart beat or is it mine? and i wish i could hold you like this forever, your weight on my chest, your body so trusting. instead i watch the clock, minutes pass and with each tick i prepare myself for the separation. i'd love to pretend it wasn't happening, but every beautiful breath reminds me of what i'll be missing. i only wonder, when the times comes, will you ask me to wait for you?

how does he smile? they ask and my cheeks are burning red.

how many minutes since
the world ended?
my ears are buzzing with
your words
"wait wait wait"
but i'm thinking, it's
now or never
so i jump because
it's long over
and for the first time i
erased the words that were written
not so set
in ink, not so stained
and today is
yesterday's tomorrow, so
please don't tell me that
everything will be better in the morning.

with every twinge of pain you try a little harder to figure out why you care so much. for the first time in months, you're reminded of what it feels like to get physically ill from jealousy. worry wrapped around words you're no longer allowed to care about. this new world of responsibility pulls you back at every turn. you miss the care-free feeling of irresponsibility, the comfort that comes with having options. it's unfair, to think like this. as if it were better before. do you think about trading it all in? you tell yourself, for just one day, just one week, but then you remember how hard you worked for what you've got. and wouldn't it be a waste to see it all just go away?
i can smell you here. in your clothes, in your book, in your bed. in your sheets i stretch and curl, they're smooth but there's no warmth in your absence.
a question hangs in the air. unsure of the exact words, but the idea is clear. i need to know what you think about all of these things that shouldn't matter. i need to tell you that something happened today that's never happened before. i need to tell you that i'm not prepared for this. that it was never expected. i'm terrified that i'm not meant to know what it all means.
the source is the comfort.
the comfort is the source.
i keep trying and trying, but the tears won't come. my eyes stay dry and my lips stay dry and my hands stay moistened slightly. behind my face there's a lake and under my skin there's a body of water and it's so much so much and i can't make it leave and its drowning me inside. and i think if you opened my mouth it would come right out, but you're not here and i can't find you where are you? where are you? i just keep wandering lost through the trees and where are you? and where did all of this water come from and why does it hurt so much? and is it love, they tell me, but they don't really because no one knows. and how does no one know, they all pay so much attention to everything else or is it just a secret i'm so good at keeping? and do you even know? i tried to many times but the water just kept rising.
so many nights spent apart together. i still don't understand. let's go back to where we started. i hate going back to where it began.

i curl up in the spot where i last saw you sleep. i'm the first person to do this in all of history. no you're not, they say. people have been losing loved ones for centuries, i guess. but no one's ever felt this before, i'm sure of it. i don't move for days. the fabric is still warm from your body or is it mine? shadows on the walls come and go, sneaking around in silence. people talk about you, ask about you, trying too hard to be nice. i don't like talking to strangers, you know that. i need you here beside me, you were always the one who talked. i'm just the one who smiles, i just smile. i smile again and again, my lips quiver, i nod my head. i can still hear your voice, a long-distance phone call. my room, my bed, my car haven't changed. it's as if they don't even know you're gone. i want to scream at the walls, i want to tell them don't you notice!? don't you even notice he's not here? but the words come from my eyes, not my mouth, and they're tears instead of sounds.

i have this memory. you're wrapped up in the sheets lying in bed and the bed is next to the window and the window is open because i'm smoking even though i shouldn't be and you tell me i shouldn't be because i am going to set of the alarm but the only alarm that goes off belongs to my crazy roommate in the next room who wakes up at ungodly early hours of the morning and thats where we're at because we drank so much i couldn't sleep without getting sick and you knew this and made me stay awake and so i made you take off your clothes because i was hot and you did it even though it didn't make sense and as i smoked you played with my toes one by one and told me how they were beautiful and how i was beautiful and i just hid behind my hair because you sounded like you loved me and i wasn't ready to be in love or even just be loved because my wrists were too skinny and the only time i'd ever read vonnegut was for school but i was always reading books about fucked up teenagers that found freedom or love or just felt okay and in the end that was enough and when i finished the books i always felt like that was enough and i guess thats how i felt that night like it was enough and maybe if you loved me it would be too much.

i swear i'd live in your mouth if you wouldn't laugh me right out

i want to kiss you. i want to steal the warmth from your lips and use it to comfort my own. i want to feel your passion and your anger and your hurt and if you feel pain i want to bleed. i want to cease to exist. i want to be a sole pair of lips entangled in yours, a pair of hands holding you down, fingertips that touch everywhere twice. i want to be the breath on your neck, the hint of moistness lining your collar, the shivers sliding down your spine. i want to feel soft and i want to sneak in and build up inside you until its so hard it almost hurts. i want you to swallow me whole. i want to seek refuge in the folds of your tongue and hide between the teeth that make up a perfectly manufactured smile that sells a million empty heartaches a day. i want to take hold of your words, just before they've been said, and keep them all in a jar for myself. i'd sacrifice the world hearing your thoughts if it meant i could wrap myself in your voice, a blanket keeping me protected and warm. you're selfish, you'd try to tell me, but before anyone could hear, i'd weave it right into my skin. i don't care what the words mean, as long as they're mine, i'm dependent on hearing you talk. i get sick to my stomach when i just think of your name, bursts of flame dancing over my bones. even when you're inside me, i can't get you close enough, i need to push you under my skin. i'll never understand you unless i become you, but you don't understand either, you just keep whispering iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou.

It was something I shouldn’t have been doing, and I guess that was the appeal. With the second sip I felt warm, and with the third I began thinking about the way we act when we just let ourselves go. How everything is better. How we get along so easily. How we just plain treat each other the way we always should have. We can’t remember what it’s like to not smile, and if we do then we cry so hard we start to hurt. By the time we hit a dozen sips, it no longer bites and we no longer taste the sarcasm, selfishness, or hurtful intent. We start to explore the warmth around us, finding comfort in entanglement. With the last sip our bodies have linked themselves. Feet to thighs, noses in necks, fingers interlocked. I honestly think that if our skin stopped touching, even for the slightest second, you’d disappear into nothing and I’d never see you again. For the rest of the night, I’m constantly checking to make sure we’re in contact, but you barely notice. You take me around the room, pointing out everything in sight, your eyes as big as a child’s. You keep insisting how important everything is, almost leaving me behind. I crawl into your safe place, but I’m getting lost inside all the folds.