I can't stop coughing. I took all the books from the basement and lined them up all along the perimeter of my room. They didn't quite fill the space. I've thrown a lot of my books away over the years, given them away, lost them. I hate losing the most.
I've watched a lot of things not matter to a lot of people. There were ones who grew up, right before my eyes. And right before my eyes, I saw myself lying all the time. I needed a slap in the face. I always want a pat on the back.
I'd remember your hands up against the sky, pressing, try to hold up weight. You left so many things behind that day you didn't show. Where did you go that day? I waited in that one field near the factory forever. I watched the sun go down over the hills. I didn't bring a coat.
I'm so stupid sometimes. I'll keep you forever. If I get bored, I'll find other things to pull out and fuck up, but I will always spin you around in the living room and take the blind fold off your eyes and kiss you just the same.
I wish we would have run that time. Through the woods. In the cold. My own emptiness, and and the vastness of my heart in your lap, you only laughed. And I laughed too. You looked into the distance. We were so quiet then that it makes me want to cry. The wind stung our faces and our ears.
That night we took turns pushing hands over faces, into mouths, through hair, more places still. I can take almost anything. It was warm, with you. So I stayed. And now I can't find myself anymore.