4am

And months later,

We lie here on the field

The war long fought

And the body count high

Wrapped in our graves

And tangled in our phone lines

Reaching with our phantom limbs

The punching bag of a coward. 

I'm not built for this back and forth, the strength of your punches eroding my resolve and changing me from what was to what is. 

Eso si que es. I am yours to build up, to destroy, to change and charge, to topple. I am satisfaction personified and so unsatisfactory to you.

You wanted to know how I feel?

Every moment awake is one spent breathless.
I don't have the lung capacity to express how hurt
How angry
How disappointed
I sleep to breathe deeply of my dreams
To forget my sickness of a world
That keeps on turning when something horrible has happened

Failure was never really an option for us.
Destined to succeed and falling while we stand
Hoping we've got
In spades
Points and sides that equal two
Confidence is the offense that will see us through
I fell for you
Hello

Send me a postcard

Lonely.
I wander in the way one would a suddenly empty house, clutching still warm clothing and attempting to sniff up all of its scent before it's too late.
Things I do to distract fall short, and I am attacked in the inevitable quiet moments by the sensation of being adrift.
Lonely.
I don't know how I ended up alone; where everyone's gone that's so much better than this home we built with our own hands.
Our own blood. Our own tears. Our own love. I'm
Lonely
In the sharply aching way that forces my lungs to struggle for air. I'm drowning;
I'm alone.
Where have you gone?

The Morning After

Your eyes burn, and suddenly you're caught up in the realization that you aren't just tired from the cry last night; you might just cry again. Mistakes are for other people to make. Your mistakes are unforgivable, condemning, the worst. How dare you not know the right thing to say, make demands, expect more! You are a teacher and so you settle for your students, as they are not there to nuture you. The hard truth is that you need someone, and you don't have them.
So your eyes burn.

I get off on your lies.

Surprising, warming

driving me to distraction

I just want you inside.

Easing, owning

knowing my disguise

This suits me,

skinned in scars as we are

Pushing, rushing

                             

                                    Lifting

Touching 

Bye, gone.

I have a notebook wet with tears you don't owe me any apologies for.
Your debt is paid in the ease of my sleep tonight, in the rest of my mind and the reach of my dreams.
It's a secret we share,
And one I intend to keep.

     I fell in love with a hopeless man, treading water with all the world's burdens lying on his back. He held potential in his heart but not his head, and dropped his faith, made slippery by fear.

     And tears. When words aren't enough and promises don't mean much, I meet him out here, at the edge of all things and I lose him. Reaching, I snag a string from his unraveling clothes and hang on, knowing that when the thread runs out he'll have to choose. Shouting words into the dark that plead for him to choose right. Choose me.

     Every day he gets further. Peace talks and treaties with those too far to understand clog our airways. The bombs are coming, soon. I'd give the string a tug but I'd be left with slack, unable to feel his downward climb. Unable to feel the goodbye tug back.

     So I hang on.