i could tell you it doesn’t hurt.
i could tell you that it doesn’t ache down to the marrow of your bones,
that loneliness isn’t deadly.
i could tell you, “fuck it, being single is so much better”
and i could put cement in the cracks in my face, i could pretend that once
my hands did not fit in another’s perfectly,
like half of the moon doesn’t miss the other
when the clouds are full.
"there’s plenty of fish in the sea", my coworker tells me.
i agree loudly but i don’t tell her that you were my sea.
“you have to learn to love yourself before you can love anyone else”, my father says.
i practice smiling and i take part in new hobbies
and i go to the doctor and i take my pills
and i exercise and there is still an emptiness that all the love i’ve given myself can’t fill.
if the doctors did an x-ray of my chest, they would find half of my heart missing.
that half is you.
i know that it is best,
that we were never meant to spend the rest of our lives together,
and my dear, i was the one to sever our skins at the hips,
i was the one to burn something that was so broken it was turning to dust,
i was the one with the fiery fists,
but if i told you that i’m happy, i would be lying.
that is what i’d tell you anyway. they say that if you tell yourself something over
and over that you finally start to believe it.
this loneliness that is in our blood, we’ll bleed it out someday.
wherever you are i hope you can say you are happy and i hope you can believe it.
We need to try to
stop ourselves from
falling in love
with those who will
never seem to fall
in love with us.
Even if it is
stop yourself from
falling when you are
already on your
I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
There are times when all the world’s asleep.
The questions run too deep,
for such a simple man.
Won’t you please, please tell me what we’ve learned.
I know it sounds absurd,
but please tell me who I am.
You didn’t love me
for me. You loved me
because I was better
than being lonely.
Knowing she would blind them if she stayed, she spread her wings and the metro winds rose to carry her up and up and out into the dark world where she would haunt the dreams of the fearful, stir secret wings in the hearts of poets, sing lullabies to the dying and reveal herself to those who dared to meet her.