That flight of stairs, a tableful of broken glass,
the chandelier an animal huddled
beyond the open door, its death/dearth of spirit a cry.

That slant of his lips, of his arms
caught in a frivolous thresher,
amazing and sarcastic in the night.

That night we were calm, unweeping,
the opposite of children. His hands up,
his hands up, an immigrant in his own life.

Beauty and grace, her gutting fearlessness
staying every cop on that block,
guns hungry for his heart, the softness of skull.

Tell me to serve forgiveness rare,
the clenched teeth of it abandonment, the retreat of god,
loosening the jaws of a great beast that lowes and lowes.

Crystal Vega-Huerta, “Unweeping”

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
We throw around the word never likes its nothing but a small rose petal. The word never is a doubled edged sword. On one side it says ‘I will never leave you’ and on the other it says ‘I will never love you.’
—  The Word Never