i didn’t hear him say

“i’m sorry”

until my dad died.

funny how death can claw the sorry

out of someone’s arteries

and scrape it onto their tongue

like a soggy spit-up fur ball.

with a certain kind of man,

an apology lingers in the room for months,

suckling air like a frantic newborn.

time goes on and women forget.

dishes pile up and laundry bins folding.

until one dark, thursday night

all...

you told me:

“i once watched you

sleeping naked in my bed,

curled up and limp,

and i knew

that everything else was bullshit.”

i told you:

“it’s so hard to stay alive these days

or sane,

so let me sleep

while you guard me from it all.”

you told me,

shaken and irritated:

“being in love with you is agonizing,

‘cause one day you’ll stop breathing,

and i already think you’re dying

when you lie ...

every day seems the same—

except that one.

our last good day.

we made pancakes at 4 a.m

and used cinnamon

in order to drown the bitterness.

you let me pretend to be a cook

and i let you pretend to be in love with me.

the pancakes are burnt

but neither of us mentions it.

i clean the plates

as you roll a joint.

you put my sweater

back on the cold skin

that you took it off of,

and note the l...

i opened my eyes

and all i could see was you.

a version of you

that only exists in my head,

but it was still you.

(and i think that’s the only way

i want you now)

and by that i mean,

in my head,

you stay a bit longer.

in my head,

you want all of me.

and not just what you get in a photo

that i spent hours perfecting.

i mean in my head

where the bath water doesn’t get cold,

we don’t prune as ...

where were you

when the world ended?

it was but a fraction of the end.

all because i met you, i’m afraid.

always so afraid, you.

why?

because you stood at the very

edge of a cliff,

heels offered to the wrath of it all.

raging sea reaching out,

...

the room is cold.

the room is perfect.

my cat is asleep next to my feet.

the cardinal has stopped

knocking on my window.

there are no bed bugs.

i swear i’ve never been more tired.

and yet i’m awake.

thinking about real,

genuine apologies.

how do you forgive for something

that put holes in your heart?

how do you forgive for something

that has taken one thousand days from you?

how do you forgi...

when it comes down to it

we’re just two high schoolers-

one with a penance for misery

and one for jealousy.

here, we have the start of a bad joke:

a boy and a girl walk into a bar

but neither are old enough to drink.

here,

we have the start of a year long avalanche.

they make eye contact

across a cold room

and when the year is up,

i die here.

you have the truth

so bitter you will spit i...

i watch you

with this heavy ache in my lungs,

knowing that my love for you is overdue.

even when it’s on the tip of our tongues.

i pick at the ground

knowing it’s frozen,

knowing i shouldn’t dig for something that can’t be found.

i resent you for being the one i’ve chosen.

and i do love you,

but i guess you’re the only one that knew....

poetry isn’t for everyone,

i get that.

it certainly wasn’t for me, either.

rhyming words to mean nothing or anything.

a series of words i knew

but never conveyed.

they were just that,

words.

poetry isn’t for everyone,

but look at you!

you’re still reading this.

you’re 11 lines in-

12!

look at you,

i must have gotten you somewhere along the way.

and this poem will end soon,

i’ll give you th...

i see ghosts

and i see you

and i see the ghost of you in my dreams-

but i don’t love you.

i am certain i don’t love you.

so why do i want to run to you

when you call my name?

why am i left to wonder

why you’re enduring like that

for such a long time?

why are you devouring my nights,

waiting so long

for someone that’s not me?

and what’s with all of the falling leaves

if i’m not the one ...