I miss talking like we used to.
Where words meant everything.
And we didn't have to hold up the constellations.
Just so the stars wouldn't fall.
Nothing makes any sense.
Without the bliss of skin rubbing next to unidentified bones.
And I'm so sick of silence.
And how everything means nothing.
I've been feeling crushed lately.
Suffocating on the things I just couldn't bring myself to say.
Wishing for a center alignment to show you that every piece is still here.
But baby, let's just face the fact that we're both broken.
I miss a lot of things these days.
The way the rain falls down on these warm nights.
And the way you twist my words into everything their not.
I miss every mistake and every erase mark on the paper.
Because all I wanted was for everything to be ok.
but nothing's okay. when the sky shattered worse than my heart.
and your hands couldn't let go of the door handle long enough
to catch me.
and it's still cold in my room.
when the chill of your last words still lingers in my pillowcase
like the death of something that was never anything to begin with.
and i guess the stars choked on my wishes.
And you put out the candle last night with whipsers.
But I haven't heard your words in weeks
the letters are still dripping from my fingertips. and something quiet is settling in.
but never comfort. never.
just this empty room and these overflowing journals
Just a fragment left hanging on every star you couldn't catch me.
Confused promises and lingering hope.
I'm running out of ink to tell you.
That I just can't breathe.
because there are traces of you left in the air.
and my lungs are still filled with tears. but i think i'll cry tomorrow
because today,
im still clinging to the sleeve of your coat
even though you're already gone.
im still hoping that being hopeless will get me somewhere.
