Writing

subjugated to solitude eternal,

only perceiving and watching love,

maybe receiving it but never understanding it

never internalizing it

it bounces off. Doesn't stick,

unkept and unruly and unclean.

I don’t want
the hair tie on my wrist 
it’s just a reminder
of how easy I was to keep.

I don’t want the flowers.
They died
doing exactly what I did:
staying too long.

We didn’t break, 
we thinned out 
into quieter sentences. 

You can walk as far as the map will go. 
You can swim all oceans, seas, and lakes. 
You can drive every winding road, 
Bike each cracked and uneven sidewalk. 

I wake up today to a grey sort of feeling, like dawn, but mixed with bits of lint and dust. I keep having nightmares, every time I dare to close my eyes, but I must keep moving. 

I am so tired.

Verse 1

We met under our darkened skies, humming

our own lullabies, that 

sent the stormy clouds chasing.

With our shadows tailing behind us, in