The Not So Distant Memory

While you may have a t-shirt, a letter, and my favorite pair of old converse, I have your dignity and your pride. I think I win.

It Never Needed a Name

I think I'm starting to fall in love with you. Your voice trips me every time.

It All Sounds The Same

Just because it was voiced doesn't mean it was true. I thought you, of all people, would understand.

Sometimes, Tripping Feels Like Falling

You don't have to write a thousand words, just look me in the eyes and smile, and I promise I'll understand.

The Surf Drowns Everything.

And as I walked away, I thought I heard you whisper, "I'm sorry...'

It must have been the waves.

The Oxygen is My Messenger, Now

There are times when I can't think, can't breathe, can't write, can't sleep because all that I am is consumed by you. You fill my head, circle my throat, cripple my hand, and blink negative behind my eyelids.

But you're not here anymore and I can't just walk up to you, look in your eyes (I've heard they look just like mine), and tell you to go haunt someone else.

But I can't help but hope that maybe somewhere, somehow, my voice is carrying through the air to the sea to the stars, and you'll hear me screaming, "STOP. I GET IT. I'M SORRY!"

Man Was Made From Dirt and Soot and Ash.

It's the way you drop the masks for me, only me...if only for seconds at a time, but I see it and those moments stretch for eternity. I recall them with perfectly clarity: the times you shine through, all battered, broken glory, like a phoenix. It's blinding. It's fucking blinding.

It's the day we learned that what we believed to be irreparable can become whole again. It's when we watched our jagged edges coalesce; we watched our mangled souls entwine and at the moment, we formed one perfect, fully-functional human being.

It's the way I drop my masks for you, only you. It's all that matters. We're all that matters, now.