myimpulsivethoughts

i keep wishing

things could be different

but you’re not a puppet

and i can’t make you say and do

the things that i want you to

i think we should move

out of our heads

and into our hearts

so we can forget the things we said

to focus on the blood pumping within us

and the sound of our heartbeats

echoing one another

as if they’re talking to each other

saying, “i missed you, too”

the ice was cracking

beneath my feet

a familiar feeling

that somehow feels like home

and if i fall through

i’ll remember familiarity again

and that a heart made of ice

is better than none at all

i want

to learn to love

all of the things

everyone else

sees in me

you’re all i ever talk about

like my tongue doesn’t know

how to speak any other name

and i’ve been working on

my pronunciation to try

to work on learning other words

like “self-worth” and “self-love”

but my muscle memory can’t forget you

and neither can i

so i’ll keep repeating your name

for repetition’s sake

we can’t commiserate

in existential disbelief

like we used to

because i decided

i do exist —

even when you make me feel like i don’t

carving out the cravings of you

seeded deep in my bones

inside the marrow-filled cavities

was the best thing

i could have ever done —

for both of us

it feels like you’re living inside me now

eating your way through my lungs

suffocating me slowly

i’m always choking

for you

every

single

fucking

thing

reminds me of you —

why do i let you

occupy so much of my time?

i’m always reminded

of that hollow feeling

when you said i was nothing

and how deep

i stuck the knife in myself

to try to carve you out of me

when i couldn’t cut myself loose

for a long time

i just sat there

in the nothingness —

so long

that i thought

i had become nothing too

it still feels like yesterday —

every day feels like yesterday

and it never goes away

and i’m always crying

oceans for you to fish

but you never liked salt water

in the first place

so i’ll let my tears

drown me here

‘cause you’ll never come looking

to find me washed-up

whenever i look at myself in the mirror

i wonder how much more i will age

before i figure out what it’s like

to feel relatively normal

and if it’s even worth it

to feel at all

i keep trying

so hard

everyday

and it feels like

striving

will never be enough

i’ll let my roots rest where they lie

in fear that moving forward

might mean more loss along the way

and if i stay stuck

i can avoid the inevitable

i can still remember

every haircut you ever got

and wondered if i’d be around for the next

it’s a strange uncomfortable feeling

being alone —

after spending every day

for the last three years with you

and then having you dissipate

like the smoke from

the joint i’m smoking to cope

i decided a while ago

that it was better

if you were dead in my head

but how could i move forward

when your phantom

sits down next to me

every single day

and never leaves my side —

will you ever go away?

maybe i can stay dead

like the barren winter trees

and wait ‘til spring to bloom

i have to

pretend that

you’re dead

so i don’t fixate

on the things

left unsaid