The Smallest Sounds Leave The Clearest Echoes

I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.

We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, Me and you.

“You can’t see it now, but that thing you didn’t get will someday be the best thing you never had. Let it go. Better is coming.”

//I know, gosh I know.// //It’s just December, isn’t it// it’s nice to have someone’s hand to hold while you take your first shot// it’s December and it’s nice to have someone to call at 2am when you’re high// It’s December and it’s fucking great to have a story to tell your friends from last night// It’s December and you have to have someone to kiss at midnight// // it’s just December, isn’t it// just the cold creeping up your spine, whispering in your ear// you think it’s her, begging you to stay// but it’s you, you just need to hear it from someone else// It’s December and you search for yourself in your reflection// in every letter you wrote him// it’s December and it’s just too much to take sometimes// it’s December and it’s too lonely to survive these nights// //It’s just December isn’t it// you have exactly seventy dollars crushed into your pocket// a lipgloss and an eyeliner in another// your tee shirt falls over your shoulder like there’s nothing to hang onto// like you’re emptying yourself of something// of someone// where are you going ?// // it’s just December isn’t it// it’s good to have something to think about// something to ask the falling stars to fix// someone to talk to, someone to kiss// It’s December and it’s nice to have someone who’ll tell you this was never true// someone to say goodbye to//

I am thinking about the crescent scar on the roof of his mouth that he got when he fell with a straw between his teeth and how it felt to run my tongue over it. How it felt to taste the moon. If love is anything tangible, it is his mouth, his mouth, his holy god damned mouth. He says my name and the whole sky is talking.

It ends or it doesn’t. That’s what you say. That’s how you get through it. The tunnel, the night, the pain, the love. It ends or it doesn’t. If the sun never comes up, you find a way to live without it. If they don’t come back, you sleep in the middle of the bed, learn how to make enough coffee for yourself alone. Adapt. Adjust. It ends or it doesn’t. It ends or it doesn’t. We do not perish.

When they don’t love you the way you want to, you mourn that for however long you need to. But then you get back up and you remind yourself. You are not a reflection of the people who can’t love you. You will love again. You will be loved again. I mean, I hope you’re happy, But the sky is still the sky without you, And I’m not surprised by that anymore.

I think you know you’ve found someone special when you meet them for the first time, and it feels like you’re just picking up where you left off. You kind of look at them and think ‘Where the hell did you come from? Where the hell have you been?’

I could wish for something softer but you know me. I love a tragedy. I love when it’s urgent.