original work

I am not.

And what does that say about me?

About how I grasped at straws all throughout my childhood, so now I grasp at myself and any tiny certainties that are not always afforded by the world?

Does that tell you my mom is bad at math, but I’ve been counting down the days since I was born since I reached double digits?

I’ve always wondered when my mistakes in algebra class would catch up with me.

And the day came.

You landed right outside of my window the day it turned seventy degrees.

But the next day, it somehow snowed.

You were gone, and the rivers froze over in the southern coves.

I missed your face. I missed the sound.

It wasn’t “thank god this is over” or “I’m so relieved” but there was a tight feeling in my chest as I walked city block after city block with people having ice cream in the street that for once, I wished someone was there to buy me ice cream.

But the air falls through my fingertips without care, and my stomach lurches into my throat.

I can’t remember where I placed my love for you.

It is not in front of me, it is not here, it is not there, it is not anywhere that my hands or heart or chest can seek.

So I go to sleep desperate and I go to sleep on an empty stomach at the thought that I will never find you.

combat me blue

Did you even know that I loved you?

Could you feel it through the phone?

It poured out of every playlist I made from the moment we met, and after every note I ever wrote.

Each time I put my pen to paper it felt like I was writing a love letter I never sent in the mail.

Signed, but never delivered. I loved you but couldn’t say it. My first love is forever nameless.