I am not okay
Do not panic
Please continue your lives
as though nothing has changed
Everything will probably
I build friendships like card houses
conversations balanced on the thinnest edge
one breath and it will collapse
a mess of words and meanings
I build friendships like sand castles
waiting apprehensive for the tide
new hallways already crumbling
every piece resisting
1. everything is shit
2. I am shit
3. there is no 3
I miss you so much
seeing you makes me want to tear off my skin
You are my bellows
you are a burr on my glove
stuck between my thumb and my finger
you are the itch as I heal.
Dilemma: I have a class tomorrow morning but
your face is seared behind my eyelids
chasing me away from sleep
Dilemma: I can only write poems
about you Dilemma:
it’s not you I hate it’s me
it’s me it’s me it’s me
missing you is a skin I wear
Inside I grow pale and my hands shake
I replace you with words with highs with chocolate.
You grow underneath my fingernails.
your face is a mirror of my face
Even now we sleep the same
forcing our bodies awake through the night
gravity bruising our eyes closed.
I am sifting through the wreckage
with bare hands
feeling for pieces that bite
still hoping my blood will glue us
You are long gone.
I watch the wind erase your footprints.
You saw yourself leave
before we ever met.
He asks me, “Is this okay?”
No this is not fucking okay.
It is not okay that your voice is a knife
scraping at my roughnesses
still sharp despite the friction.
It is not okay
it is not okay that alcohol could make me a stranger
steal my voice and paste your face on other people
burning in my veins saying Yes, Yes.
It is not okay that you are no longer mine
but my hands still know the shape of you.
When I wake up the cold lies down beside me
as light as you are heavy
and I put my arm around it
and it breathes into my neck with your breath.
Do you understand?
You are a lighthouse and I
I have to see him tomorrow.
He is selling me drugs.
(at least I will be able to numb his face
from my memory, afterwards).
The thought of it ties me in knots.
I think I am suffocating myself.
I don’t leave my house anymore.
I am awake in a haze until 4 in the morning
and asleep until 3.
Why stay awake?
There is nothing to get up for,
there is nothing to pull me out of bed.
Let me sink into the sheets
let me drown