Leopards never change their spots And you can’t teach an old dog new tricks But I don’t hold my breath until you text me back And my chest doesn’t ache when I wake up in the morning

I still cry to the same songs And forget to put on sunscreen But I don’t hang out with people who make me tired anymore And now I stay quiet when your name comes up

I get angry Just as angry as always And I still feel my smile twitch when someone hurts my feelings

I still mourn the friendships that ended The inside jokes that make me ache as much as laugh The things that remind me of people whose voices are blurry I love everyone I’ve loved And I still feel bad for my own hurt feelings

My heart is heavy But I’d never trade a heavy heart Because even though its weight hurts I know that means it’s full.

I used to watch the wooden statues at church and swear I could catch them moving. That if I looked hard enough, focused my eyes on their faces and hands, some motion could be detected there. I wanted a sign. A blessing. Some indication that the God I was praying to saw me and that things were okay. That I was good and I was special and elicited such a miracle as making a statue move. Even now as I pass— I haven’t been to church in months, but their eyes look too glossy. Their hands float too lightly. I haven’t quite given up. I haven’t been strong for someone in my life. I can’t watch a person in pain. I get hot, I cry, I almost always run away. I feel shameful. I feel weak. I hate change. I hate losing things. I don’t know how to feel this much. I know in my heart that I’ve seen them move.

What’s worse than it being over before it began? Between strangers and brothers by fate’s selfish hand To know I might have loved you You could be my family But taken, fast, trapped in moments past Is anything that would ever be.

I’m not afraid of silence. There’s a comfort in it. A pause, a breath. It never bothered me before.

Silence with you is a black hole, a dreadful waiting, a trip to the DMV.

Silence with you is an unheard question, a glass half full. A ticking clock at 3:00 a.m. Let me rest.

I swear I’ll fill it, I’ll ramble nothings I know you’ll hate. Anything to run from it.

Your blank stare, your critical ears, “To speak or to die?” I hardly know.

I am afraid of silence with you.

I watched an old man in the library Who dressed the same way that I do. I wondered what books he checked out If he enjoyed my favorite books, too.

I spoke to a man at the gym Who wore the same shoes as me. He said he bought the same New Balances for thirty years And it’s a future of mine I can see.

I used to scoff when my dad played the Beatles But I shuffle them mindlessly now. The same songs he sang then I’m not sure how I lived without.

I share so much with people I swore I couldn’t be less like. We’re all made of the same stuff I guess And I guess that’s part of life.

October mornings, The breeze carries resting leaves and scattered rain. I open the window to take it in.

The nights are cold, colder in the passing days, But the window stays open. I layer blankets and cabin socks.

The morning breeze begins to chill me, But I embrace it, breathe it in, Let my lungs fill with sweet memories.

The wood creaks, the wind whistles, The chill settles. The window stays open. I turn the heat up, I light the fire, I layer blankets and cabin socks. The breeze lives inside now, but I am nothing if not a welcoming host.

My bones grow brittle, my skin is chapped. My lungs are full of breeze gone bitter and cold, memories gone sour. This house used to be a home.

Yet still in the icy dawn A lone robin clings to the window screen. It’s still warmer inside than out.

I take off the screen and gently, My pallid hands lift her inside. I close the window behind her, and stroke her feathers as she warms by the fire.

You told me you liked me because I was Someone New. Verbatim. I’m not sure how I thought that was a compliment, but It gave me time to feel my novelty wear off. Like cheap gold jewelry, Tarnished and green, Disposed of.

Sometimes I think you’re determined to be bored of me. Too young, too naive. I wear my mother’s high heels,
I curl my hair But I’m only really pretty when you’re high.

You’re so scared of dying alone, You’d kill me for some quiet company. But how can I be mad When there’s dirt under my nails From digging my own stupid grave?

People always ask me what it was like. Like I could recount it like a year abroad. Parties, dinners, touring the countryside, meeting the locals. A retreat. A vacation. I realize that to them, I might as well have been vacationing. Sure, they know it was difficult. They know to thank their veterans, that I’ve done a great service for my country. They fly the flag and take off their hats and offer their thoughts and prayers. But really, I was gone a year and now I’m back. Life goes on. They did the laundry and washed the dishes and didn’t think or pray as much as they said they would. Not that I blame them. Because I realize they’re right. Life really does go on. I do my laundry and wash my dishes and surprise myself with how easily I can forget things. I live alone now. I drink coffee in the morning and tea at night. I take vitamins. I read mystery books from the library. I go for walks. I see a therapist. I try to forget things. It’s only when the floorboards creak, when the coffee goes cold, when the chapter ends, I’m back there. That’s what it’s like.

We watched the sailboats in the bay floating aimlessly, helplessly Beckoning to the call of the elements.

I watched the tide crashing on the rocky shore, Listened to the sea birds sing, Breathed in the sulfuric air, But I couldn’t look at you.

The water erodes the rocks The rocks don’t seem to mind. The sea is a harsh mother Yet the sailors set out daily Relinquishing control, Accepting love, enduring censure Grant me that serenity

I have an old picture in my room Of you drinking coffee, A smile gracing your face. Seeing you there, it’s so clear. Sunday night dinners, patio talks, Loving and being loved so purely. Maybe I’d go to church more.

I hate how they talk about you. I wanted to know you But the harder I tried, the faster you left. I knew you least, but I know I knew you best. I just hate how often I forget you.

I’ve asked for too many signs, Used up all my wishes. But I know it isn’t over. They can’t keep us apart forever. I just have to get through Life without you.