Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC

I think you should be nervous about

what I will accomplish once I heal.

The mountains I’ll move.

The miles I’ll cover.

The skin I’ll get under.

you

told me

i was as

vital

as

that

after-dinner

cigarette

you

could never

have just

one of.

begin to miss meals

ache in the worst ways.

slip from our fingers like a haze of barely-there smoke,

you’ll bleed yourself dry for me one question at a time—no passing. i’ll lick your wounds

airless,

upside-down

“that you had every reason to lock, bolt, & paint your door shut, but you still had enough space in that trusting heart of yours to leave it ajar & brave the cold air for me.”

somewhere along the way, he forgot to mention the swarms of flies & wasps that would eventually come to cover everything we made together. the spoilage of all this misguided longing.

that’s

how

the girl

learned

how to love

but only ever

from a great

distance.

sometimes

she cannot

tell the

difference

between

the days

she’s walked

this earth

as herself

&

the days

she’s walked

through paragraphs

as someone else.

- no one noticed & she liked it that way.