You're not really dead,
but you're dead to me.
The memory of you still lingers
somewhere in the back of my mind,
and sometimes it comes alive..
A fiction, a fantasy, a daydream.
In those scenes you're you and I'm me,
but I'm better and stronger than I am now.
I'm so much more than this lost, delightful mess...
And I fucking hope that you miss me.
And I hope that you hurt deep down inside..like I did.
It's just that my heart..stopped hurting a while ago.
Now, I'm just angry and a little bit spiteful...
But most of all..I'm disappointed..in you..and in me.
I don't miss the person you are right now,
I miss the conversations, the laughter and the madness...
Our stupid talks..
I needed a friend..not a boyfriend or a lover.
And you turned your back on me..on us.
That fucking hurt.
How easily replaceable I was..or I am?..whatever.
I needed you to give me time to find myself,
to realize what and who I want in my life...
I was like a wave..you pushed me
and you forgot to pull me back towards yo

gravity settles along my collarbones
and into the spaces between my ribs,
pulls me closer.
i ask,
"am i going to die?"
and it responds,
"eventually."
i keep coughing up all the words that stick in my throat.
my lungs are trying to expel something but
i don't know what it is and
i'm dizzy from the medication.
i look back at my breathing problems
trying to find a correlation but
all i see are constellations--
no, that's just sp ot t y vision,
am i going to faint again?
i can't breathe, but
that's normal.
inhale
inhaler
exhale
forgetting to breathe may be  p o e t i c
but i never could breathe in the first place.