Maybe it’s the time or the place or just us. The lack of communication or lack of trust. Maybe it’s just life throwing love under the bus. Maybe it’s just not now or not soon or not ever. Maybe two people aren’t meant to end up together. Maybe it’s not enough to just sleep with your sweater. Maybe it’s the distance or the longing or the lust. It could be anything but I think it’s just us.

the first few months i knew you
i carried you around in my pockets
like you were a part of the fabric,
letting your name somehow slide
into every conversation i had

the final few days that we spoke
i tore through the clothes in my closet,
trying to find the last pair of jeans
i wore to see if there was maybe
a hole in the seams that made us
lose what we had


jean conversations (k.p.k)

I never thought of humans as chemical reactions
until the first time we kissed and I felt sparks,
knowing you must be a conductor,
and I was the charge,

and when I learnt about combustion in my science class,
I thought about the day I left you and
the way you seemed to fall apart,
all carbon dioxide and water,

and I thought that maybe if I was a little bit smarter,
I would have read ahead a few chapters and learnt
how to put you back together again,

but instead
I went off like an alarm, and I hid
behind the notion that maybe if I never
met your eyes I could avoid the fact
that I was the only toxic one
between the two of us,

and I can’t help but notice you in the fragments of
the trees as they let out sighs of relief and
I wonder if you’re thinking about me,
trying to see me in the corners of the streets,
knowing I’m homeless since I walked
out of your heart.