I’m tired of seeing things that existed before you now as nothing else but reminders of you. I can’t erase you…but I’d give anything to have those things back, without you..

She reminds you of birthday cake and lavender hand soap. Her smile contains hints of vanilla summers and cinnamon winter's. She speaks, and it sounds like the popping of fresh movie theater popcorn and the fizzling of a perfectly topped off cup of Coca-Cola. You hold her hand, and warmth rushes through your body like … Continue reading I’m tired of seeing things that existed before you now as nothing else but reminders of you. I can’t erase you…but I’d give anything to have those things back, without you..

I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

My sleep isn’t so much a lack thereof, but a world of nightmares that makes nothing feel like real rest. Every wall is a mirror, and my whole body is covered in bright red scars, and everyone I’ve ever known is watching me and walking by and offering help, offering hands and tissue paper and … Continue reading I’ve grown accustomed to my own lack of patience, pushing aside the reality of my short temper by hiding behind a mountain of excuses, like my insufficient sleep schedule or my diet of razor blades and a nightly bottle of pills. But let’s break that down to it’s pieces, shall we?

I think of you as still being here, with me. I feel your weight on my shoulder when I lay down alone, the scent of your neck filling my lungs, the cold of your feet chilling mine. I’m not lonely, I’m just alone at the moment, and this moment is bound to pass, eventually. 

I left you, ran away from you, rented a Dodge Charger, drove that bitch till the gas ran out, got on a sled with a full 10 Husky sledding team, road those bitches (a more appropriate use of the term here) until running into the Alaskan never-ending summer skyline, and STILL, when I caught my … Continue reading I think of you as still being here, with me. I feel your weight on my shoulder when I lay down alone, the scent of your neck filling my lungs, the cold of your feet chilling mine. I’m not lonely, I’m just alone at the moment, and this moment is bound to pass, eventually. 

I still remember your favorite ice cream, and the way you smelled, and I’m obviously not taking enough pills to melt you away tonight.

I lost track of the time as soon we turned on the TV. The lights and sound just served as background noise; my attention was all yours, and you knew it. We were laying down together on my couch, me the big spoon and you curled up with your head resting on my arm. Your … Continue reading I still remember your favorite ice cream, and the way you smelled, and I’m obviously not taking enough pills to melt you away tonight.