i wish i could fix myself
i wish on stars, on
dandelions, on sunsets, on
everything beautiful i wish
to fill my lungs up with
air and my heart up with blood and
my head up with joy and
the hole in my chest with whatever
real people are made of
(surely it’s something
more magical than bone and muscle)

i spend hours building hammers and nails
with only my callused hands
and yet it seems
i must have something to nail together
and i am made of shadows now

the cold comes, with 
crazy skies and the swish of leaves
against my shoes and the
sound of constant silence
i spend hours walking alone
from place to place, and
my lips twist with irony
when i write an essay on 
transience

i was never a good sewer and
it seems my stitches
cannot stand the weather

oh i want to fix myself
to knit together the slashes through my brain, through the
fabric binding us all together as i commandeer
a raft
and drift away while i’m beating at the inside of
my skin
sobbing that i want, i want, i want
to fix myself

cloth stretches thin before it is almost gone

—  promises i’ve made and promises i’ve broken

I can’t promise you I won’t swear when I drive. Or that I will always follow the speed limit. I can’t promise you I won’t eat with my hands, or make a mess on my shirt at almost every meal. I can’t promise you that I won’t embarrass you with my bad dad jokes, or twisted sense of humour. I can’t promise you I won’t break into song and dance in the middle of a walmart, or spin and dip you at the mall. I can’t promise I won’t say things that may upset you, or trip up on my words when I get little nervous. I can’t promise you I will dress my age or even my gender. I can’t promise I won’t make faces at you across the dinner table, or climb across to give you a kiss. I can’t promise I won’t trip on my own two feet at a family dinner or say the wrong thing to your dad. I can’t promise I’ll always have the answers or that I’ll be able to fix everything. I can’t promise I won’t make fun of your choice in romcoms, or secretly enjoy them.

But I can promise you I will be your home. I promise I will be the home to all your secrets. Your favourite hiding place. I will always love you, through your tears, laughter and silence. I promise to pull you into my arms when it’s just a little too cold. I will rub your back after a hard day. I promise I will listen to the same story about Stacy from the office, no matter how many times you’ve told me or about the assignment you are still working on. I will keep your heart warm, and your smile often. I will do everything to show you that despite everything I can’t promise - I will always follow through on what I can.

—  The things I can promise you.
I lied. You leaving me wasn’t okay and it will never be okay. But you lied to me too. You made promises to me that will never be kept. Those promises vanished into thin air just like how our forever did. When you left me, you took everything…
They call me foolish for still loving you. For letting those three blissful words slip through my lips and into the dark lonely air longing to reach you.
But how can I move on when you still have my heart and your voice still resonates throughout my body and your smile still lives in my eyes and every time my mind wanders it goes directly back to you.
I still remember everything and my god I wish I could forget because maybe I wouldn’t hurt this bad. I still remember the sound of my crying breaking the unbearable silence as we sat there. I remember the way your hands felt on my cheeks as you wiped away my tears. I remember that look in your eyes and the way your voice sounded as you said you loved me for the last time…
I miss you more than anything and it’s killing me…
But if loving you kills me tonight, then I was ready for death the moment you said hello.
—  and suddenly all the love songs were about you 
I know you deserve so much better than me. But I promise you that no one wants to wake up to your face more than me.