Loving you is like watching static on a TV

Who are we?

I lost you in a sun stained parking lot –

the windows dripped. Parasitic dismemberment

shocked my limbs numb – left my chest ripped.

You left me an empty promise.

Time isn’t real but you’ve given me so much of it.

You gave me haunted houses. You left me

dangling from a tightrope. You visit

me all the time but it’s a double sided mirror.

I’m high and you are dry.

I’m drowning in murky water

and you bang on the glass.

I fucking hate you and your goddamned armored pride.

You you you

who left me with “I’ll wait for you”

scrawled on wet paper in a mailbox,

have taken flight from those lies.

Tell me. Who are we?

You’ve dodged clouds for too long.

The thought of a lifetime

keeps you a lone dot in the sky.

At the dusk of your suffering

tell me who would dare to open that window.

Tell me who would face that sun with open eyes,

and blind themselves to keep you afloat.

You you you who hates metaphors

and hides your dirty-bomb love in a trenchcoat.

“Get to the point!”

But I’m a mess and you loved it.

I’m a mess and all I do is covet.

You tell me, “sooner or later.”

Tell me, is sooner on our deathbeds

or gray wrinkled and forgetful

or will it be next hot wet summer

windows dripping,

our breath mixing like our souls did?

A mixed episode manic depressive

fever dream is the closest I get to touching

your outstretched hand before you yank it back

and drop a smokescreen between.

I don’t know where my words are going,

if they’ll ever see the light of the night

when your eclipse has passed

Dear God, how long will this purgatory last?

Who are we?

I’m running on an empty tank

and eventually the fumes will consume

my brain but my thoughts will still remain

hopelessly devoted to you

singing a refrain from that song

we used to kiss to.

My eyes have been pried open

forced on to a static screen –

Oh, I want to do us wrong.

But it’s something I’ll never mean.

The break between us will never be clean.

I’ll get close and lean away on a dime.

We swayed in time under fluorescent lights,

the concrete pricking our feet.

You talked so sweet –

til the sun began to beat.

You you you

don’t know who we are either,

do you?

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