I had a dream last night that my hands fell off,
and I cried because I didn’t know how to hold you anymore.
I keep forgetting that when you fall asleep on an empty heart,
it leaves space for haunted things to make a home
in all of the quietness.
I have not talked to the night sky in days.
Mostly it is because I am tired of kissing the moon
and waking up to an empty bed.
Mostly, it is because I am tired of
calling the bed empty when I am still in it.
There must a boy in a faraway town not reading my poems,
and he must know that they are all the same, anyways.
Does all of this still count as addiction
when I don’t like the taste of it?
What I mean is, I don’t want to miss you,
but that doesn’t stop the dizzy from happening.
I still can’t decide if this is about
forgetting to hate you or not remembering to love myself.
I hope I am forgiven for holding my name in my mouth like it is something dirty
when it isn’t next to yours.
I am constantly making the wrong prayers,
but for the first time since you left,
I am asking for myself back instead of you.