our lives operate in such close
vicinity to one another
an intricate orchestration of avoidance
sometimes mere inches away
yet we never touch
some moments
are full of too much silence
to put into words
all I can do
is look
Author
our lives operate in such close
vicinity to one another
an intricate orchestration of avoidance
sometimes mere inches away
yet we never touch
some moments
are full of too much silence
to put into words
all I can do
is look
I dream that I forget your name
and in that moment I remember
it’s the most important possession
I own
I search for it in the hidden
recesses of my mind
chasing, frantic, after an essence trail
green and blue
ever disappearing
but I know it should be there
I know I have to find it
before I lose myself
for the memory of you is all
I own
when I awake, the word
now intact, returned
I have the most irrational urge
to write it on my wrist
ink and blood intertwined
so there’s no chance of ever
losing you again
even in my dreams
sometimes when the music
shakes my very bones
thrumming right through me
chest, collarbone
I can think about the future
just a glimmer
tape the picture of you and I
above the dashboard of a van
get a dog and hit the road
listen to all the tunes I can’t
sing along to at home
and the mountains and I
could be lonely together
a bird
a fox
an elephant
I wonder where they are
all lined up on your shelf
or buried in a box
the bird landed in your hands
the fox smuggled in your pack
the elephant mailed from a post office
somewhere along the road in Utah
two of wood
one of bone
three amateurishly fashioned
but all have this in common–
when I couldn’t use my words
I used my hands instead
some days I just need my world to shrink
to the size of my heart
my head
or under the blanket in my bed
some days I’m tired of working so hard
to be okay
to get things done
to focus on now
some days I want to be allowed to admit
all I want
is to look each other in the eyes again
and not feel hopeless
I sometimes think about how he
breaks open apples with his hands
or how she
smiles when she talks about the quirks
of her friends
or the way he sleeps with
the covers pulled over his head
how she papers her walls in pictures and never
curses in english
how he dresses in layers and always
tells the best jokes that never end
or the way she gets unreasonably excited about
that bagel shop back home
but when I think of you
I can never pick one thing
to remember
I know I shouldn’t wait for you
but I’m here, way past the time
I should be going home
because I’m tired
body mind soul
tired.
I know I shouldn’t wait for you
because I know that seeing you
silent and ignoring
is a moment of better
and longer of worse
but I’m still here pretending
I’m not watching the door.
I know I shouldn’t wait for you
for a moment
a day
a month
a year
a life
because I know you might not show up
but since when have I done
what I was told?
I know I shouldn’t wait for you
but every day
I do it anyway.
it’s weird to have people I can play with
people that pick me up and spin me around
when I finally catch a goal in frisbee
who train with me and compare biceps
and make silly faces
who play jokes and drink my red bull without apology
who meditate in the grass
and cuddle puddle in the growing dark
and stay late when they should be somewhere else
who play fight and throw me to the mat
and make me laugh
make me reach out with hands
that have momentarily forgotten
they don’t want to be touched.
I try to tell myself it’s only temporary
don’t get attached
one moment and this could all disappear…
and I’ll be worse than alone again.
but when she has a panic attack and we hold her
when she says I have depression and all he says is
me too
when we don’t want to go home and so stay
even after it gets dark
and I hear myself laugh even with all my heaviness
I want to believe that maybe
maybe
I can have this for just a little longer
maybe I can keep my door open
just a tiny crack.
we meditate, us four
feet in a square
lying on our backs in the cold
cold grass as the crickets
sing and a single star
appears in the fading sky.
she says to imagine walking
into a warm bright house full
of family
and I don’t imagine my own.
you hug me
and we are surrounded by
the people I knew as friends
way back when
and I am happy.
you and I we lie
in the dark
and I am not alone
listening to your nearness
and I never, never want
to open my eyes
to cold, cold fall dusk
and a dying sky.
I’d give anything
to fall asleep next to you again
even if we aren’t speaking
even if we aren’t touching
just to look at your shape in the dark
and listen to your breathing
and let the nearness of you
surround me like a cloud