380

going back, pictures of you.
sweating as i think of the possibilities--
how many things can, could, might, will? go wrong,
i miss you.
reading an article from my mom
full of short sentences,
a couple grammatical mistakes,
and punctuation
that reminded me of your writing style.
fast. choppy. disconnected.
you loved me.
you wrote about how you loved me,
the girl with the long sentences
who loves the semi-colons,
who loves you.
notice that?
present tense.
i love.
i listen to love songs
because i miss the feeling of loving you.
i miss you so much.
i want to know you're more than alive.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

314

i knew this would happen.  i am finally the wolf king,  hurting who i love to keep them safe.  from myself.  from the future.  it was one of the hardest things i’ve ever done.  i tore my heart apart, doing that.  i hope i never have to do it again.  this is not how i wanted things to go.  i’m so achingly sorry.  --3.7.18
Read more

292

i have an associative memory. more than most people, at least. the feeling of the air in my lungs today made me dance in the front yard as the music filtering through my earbuds brought back memories of good times.        good times?    good feelings. carefree. my chest tugged. i shut the feeling out.  i wanted to run, to smell a bonfire,  to play capture the flag with a bunch of rowdy boys. i wanted to pretend i was a spy and peer around trees, anxiously looking for  the other team. i wanted to be alone. i wanted to be with someone. i wanted to be younger. i wanted to lose myself outside and forget my thoughts. i wanted to run so fast that my problems didn't follow. i wanted to be free. --1.10.18
Read more

318

i hate my big forehead. i hate my bumpy, too-big nose. i hate my too-wide mouth and smile. i hate my round face. i hate my stubborn, ugly curls. i hate my big shoulders. i hate my long, skinny arms. i hate my small nails. i hate my scarred up back. i hate my small chest. i hate my belly. i hate my misplaced, nonexistent hips. i hate my ugly, scarred, bruised legs. i hate my big feet. it's late at night and i hate myself again --3.12.18
Read more