You’ll never be able to tug on my shirt as I tell you about my love for stripes.
When I empty my pockets out on my bed:
- change ($2.85)
- lipstick (dark plum)
- two keys (one to the mailbox, one to the front door.)
I’ll notice how there are no notes, no reminders of you.
I meant to write this about the sky:
- the rain
- the chill
- the gust of pale gray clouds racing one another.
- the slight breeze that made me feel like living.
but here I am, with a perfect pen
to write these words out… a miserable inadequacy.
I seem to think you’d get a kick out of this. Someone writing about you.
But you are my inspiration to never love again.
my heart has been sneaking out when i’ve gone to bed
and my mind has a car i don’t remember buying.
somehow i end up back at your door
somehow i find my way to your bed
figuratively i know.
shamelessly i know.
each time there’s a new set of sheets
as to tell me “you’re very temporary" or "i don’t want you to think i want you.”
you don’t know how hard i’ve been trying to sweep away
that clutter you’ve put in such a small space
with such a big meaning
with boxes marked “this was never going to work" and "you didn’t think i was serious did you?”.
i understand to a certain extent
why you never told anyone about your random calls
or when you had to step out to “get away from the world”
i am not special i know
but breathe in more bad than out
and i just wanted fresh air.
get up get up get up
there’s something shining somewhere
for you like you dreamed of.
walk out walk out walk out
there’s tiles, sidewalks, fresh concrete
your feet have never stomped on.
we need so much
we need so much
but how much are we willing to want?
and i can’t help but to strangle my thoughts when every sentence is so heavy.
keep up keep up keep up
i swear they’ll run right pass you
and leave you so far behind
the roads will look like silly string.
i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry
you can’t rely on me
from the clocks that hang on your walls
to the tick that echos from your wrist
time is nothing but a tick
exist before you miss it
don’t miss it
get up get up get up.
you’re tricky, picky, and constructed with locks i’ve never seen before.
but all i can think is
"i can’t wait until you love me enough to give me a key".
i assume you left these paddles for me so i don’t drown
and i think if you were trying to hold me back
you should have accepted that i’ve run out of anchors
but i guess i should accept you don’t need the idea of us.