The last 3 letters of the spring

Tell nothing

Just sit with me in silence

Do nothing

Just let me feel your mess

It caught me off guard

with my hair undone

In my bleached underwear

Before I washed my face 

In my dark play-act bathroom

In my empty play-act home

Look away

remember me crumble

say I am making myself cry

Blame me for my loneliness

and rest your head on my belly 

In the last moment, close your eyes

then shut the door in my face 

and when you go

I beg you—stay gone!

say 

You don’t remember

If anyone’s asking

say:

she was cold-hearted February

When I was August

say you were freezing 

When I was burning

say you’re better off alone

missed by 2 

minutes of stillness

a connection train

between two

strangers

I said

I miss talking to you

You said, “Any plans for the weekend?”

I said

I am afraid of you 

You said, “I am not that scary.”

And then; the metal box went rigid.

It’s only a matter of time

at home, you smell my long black hair on your shampoo – to cut off is to remember 

the riddance.

One of the strangers didn’t feel well; The conductor told us later. 

It’s not quantum physics: emergencies happen; you couldn’t have fixed it. 

I know you tried, though.

And sometimes that’s the reason why butterflies fly

They stick to the surface and never leave 

That one place or, 

that one person who is 

nothing but a sticky slice of melted murder, once in a while looking for mates, but never actually mating.

Getting sick of my trains 

missed

And calling me crazy later? 

There is grief, and then there is this

Nobody’s dead, but I think I might be little by little: what if she’s tiny and blonde?!

You’d miss my call if I ever tested the waters, still cold. 

You’d miss my silence if my absence meant something. 

I missed my golden boy, how could I not?

What if she’s true, or worse, what if she’s blonde?!

My grief has a name

green eyes

always right

never feels anything 

except for all the feelings there are

My grief hates being tickled 

quick to judge your lack of confidence in the absence of a trial, 

unless you pled guilty in an act of faith, or stream of consciousness; then it’s your loss!

I had a dream where I was 

still walking down that aisle 

despite daring all its crimes

 made in the name of self-love, or God, or someone almighty, unless

I was missing myself

Vile, on the other hand, wasn’t I?

My grief has a name

used to hide in my arms

from all that darkness there is

My grief has a name

and a record of not being ready

plays it nice until all that’s left is violence

My grief has a name

Except for all those days, it’s silent 

Went through airport border control.

Twice.

You would have laughed so hard – very dana-coded ofc (checks out)

The little things which aren’t little 

and the bitter longings – will they ever sweeten? (Lol)

Tell me more. about the time(s) you felt like running. You said. It’s been a while. 

I said. I can(’t) relate.

Happily ever after, but make it poorer. 

My silly spells, your heartfelt walks away. Abandon all hope, Or, something deeper. 

I would have downloaded another stupid app, just to 

eavesdrop 

right-down: 

How do you open up your soul? I have a superpower. 

Allowed, Are They? Enough 

to see blindfolded windows…Not to worry, 

there is always more to witness…homeless love 

without shelter. guilting you into submission. 

questioning my witchness. How did I sink into

that sickness? Or,

somehow deeper.

Its highest form.

of course.

That was sad, there’s no point denying how sad it was.

You only recognize it, when you’re no longer in it.

It was the real me, and it was the real you, yet “it wasn’t really it”.

In the middle of the night

brawling air just to come out alive at 07:31

as if I was never on the other side

as if I was never THE…

still fighting back my wounded mirrors

shadows of my innocence 

 

I’ll hold your hand when the big scary guy will lurk 

around your house 

politely scream your name (in my head, how else) and let (the other) kiss my shins

I’ll find my way out

I say, but I can’t 

give you more than I’m allowed to grieve 

You love, and then you lose

and there is no other meaning

It’s not that deep.

It was one of those things on one of those days.

That’s it.

the pause / the silence / your heart racing / cheering me up / your stupid jokes / your nervous smile / your man up voice / your way of saying I am here, please notice / I don’t know how else / but take this / take everything from me / would it help / I figured yes

I just couldn’t / find the words / failed to read between the lines / was I using my eyes / and held my arms instead / called a cab half dead / I know / too / how to run / couldn’t move my legs / really needed to sit down / dizzying sounds in my ears

like a broken record:

I am afraid / of you / of this / of what I know will happen / If I keep my promise / oversized hoodies for men / dressed up doll, or playing house / I hoped you’d understand / I wish you could / hoarding scrunchies as a final act of love / and I was thinking about you 

yk, I was wrong.

I loved that apartment –

And I loved it, not because it was just a cool apartment

Sure thing, it was!

I loved that apartment because you loved me in it.

Here, all things die silently screaming.

Here I might not even be.