Saturday, November 6, 2010

Day 477: the bitter

im trying to write poems to tear away the darkness
to take away the cold
the bitter
the parts that were left behind that time
the things we carried in our pockets
pretended not to be weighed down
pretended not to cry
and scream
but there are still echoes here
and scars of where our voices made the deepest cuts
where we left the hearts we severed
and we walked away with ourselves to learn to breathe differently or die

there are ghosts youve left behind
and lies of mine we havent moved from
they are the echoes and weights we carry
trying to convince ourselves that the other bodies we put between us make any difference in heartbreak
there is no space here
for other skins
you are playing with fire
and im the only one burning
the tears dont fall right in this place
sorrow is a vacuum of space i never learned to fill
your kisses are vouchers i cannot afford to check
we are that kind of dangerous
kite runners with broken wrists
and heavy wind
ugly in the sky
looks like we are constantly falling
it feels like im constantly sinking
into you
and out of myself
independence means nothing without someone to hold you in the moments that the walls are crumbling
when eyes rain like california in fall
and almost beautiful

im trying to write tonight to tear away the darkness
to bring back the moon
and the mountain
and the ocean
the water that doesnt come from my own skin
im trying to write tonight to take away the cold
the bitter
the pieces we left behind
pretended not to want to turn back
when thats all we ever did
and thats all we'll ever do

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