find how the time passes.
nights spent in other realms to the small light of the candle on my bedside table, why do you always bring me back home when all i want to do is stay with you? i wake up at the same time, five in the morning, everytime. i blow out the candle, and it burns my fingers to hold the now charred glass.
mornings spent trying to find reasons to lift my feet and put them on this solid ground, this purple carpet, this overwhelming house we built for three. i always think of you in the shower, and how we used to get ready together with the same rhythm every morning. this water is hotter than it used to be, as hot as my skin can stand it. steam rises and drifts back down, and i don't feel any better.
afternoons that the sun is pounding, and i'm digging in this soil to the anniversary tape you made me right before i moved. brown under my fingernails, beads of sweat collecting on my forehead, i'm trying to make it all grow without you.
my evenings in coffeeshops and writing and reading comics and playing with friends who haven't looked at me the same since you've been gone ... they offer cool breezes and open windows while the cats play who hates who more.
when nine o'clock hits, that's when i would call you, knowing the minutes were free. or you'd call first, just enough to let the caller id show me it was you, before i called you back to rant and ridiculous and invite into each other's days.
structure was so simple when you were on my side. a heart wasn't so hard to have.
insured with heartbreak, my blood collects in my fingers as i write. boxes and numbers don't fill the lines left blank on my calendar. it's only wide eyes and a scared girl with arms closed tight around the pieces she has left of you cluttered in this small room ... remember that we built this room for two?
