Yours

Yours is the first skin
I touched in hopes of holding on.

Yours are the first lips
I kissed under bed covers,
stars, and disarray.

Yours are the first hands
I held in fear of where they'd go
had they strayed.

Yours are the first eyes
 to tell me 100 different things
 in a second and a half
without ever uttering a word.

Yours are the first eyes to know
what I feel like while unclothed.

Yours are the first hands
I let go of in wonder
of where they'd go.

Yours is the one and only body
mine still feels and misses
in the most selfish way.
In front of the fridge,
By the dishwasher.
On the couches.
On the street.
In the drive.
In the grass.
Your room.
Never in mine.
By the fireplace.
And by the bonfire.
And on the trampoline.
And on the railroad tracks.
On the bench by the pond, the lake.

Yours are the first fingers
to graze my bare thighs.

Yours are the first legs
to tangle and wrap around
mine.

Yours is the only presence
which ruins me in its absence.

Yours is the only voice
I keep voicemails of in
spite of knowing you'll
never call again. Because
You'll never call again.

Yours is the last thing
I fear I'll be again.

Yours is the face I see
in the best and worst
of my dreams.

Yours is the name
I would scream
in January, when October
I couldn't beat.


Yours is the number I
text but for which I
never can hit send.


Yours is the breaking
for which I always bend.

- Yours

Today

I don't know if I'll ever feel as deeply 

and strongly for someone as I did for you. 

You had me at, "is your hair hungry?" 

And at every line you drew. 

I want you to know 

that this is not for show.

It's how my life has changed, 

since you ended our friendship

 like a hanger to be hanged.

He kissed me today. 

By the river, on the bank.

He asked me first 

And I saw his thirst 

But after you 

I hate that it's true 

But I rarely do refuse.

I remember I saw that exact same thirst 

once before in your eyes 

as they cursed 

the feeling there inside of you 

to wait at least until month three

To even dare kiss me; 

I loved your chivalry. 

I don't know how you did it— 

how you wonderfully won over me.

I don't even think you knew how willingly 

I gave my heart over to you. 

For once upon a zucchini gift 

on my deck as only you would do, 

I simply and whole-heart-edly just knew. 

Now I give my body and my opinion.

And I neither do not mind nor do. 

The only thing that kills me now 

is that no matter who I choose,

not one of them will ever be 

the same as you— for they are them—

and you refuse.

Phantom Legs

I want to walk for years. 

to your old house.

to the place under the tree in 

my front yard.

to the frozen couch on Dean St. 

to Heaven Dr. 

and Mac'n Cheese Hill.

That place under the stars

by the cemetery in the middle of

 I was looking at you. 

You asked me where I think 

the stop signs go to die 

and I told you I do, too—

love you. 

Now I select your name on the computer 

and I hit 'replace'. 

It says "no replacement found". 

It makes me want to walk 

to the places in my mind 

where you are still around. 

Where falling in love is 

sliding across the hardwood flooring, 

kissing in the rain on the side of the

road while it's straight up pouring,

tiptoeing to your room while 

your parents are snoring. 

I want to walk back to Dean Street

with my clothes-iron and spoon

and look at you and your muskmelon

and say "I still love you."

Meet me in Hell, and we'll walk
like you always joked we'd do,

through the hearse show;
I love you still, it's true.

As to why, I really just don't know. 

- A Paraplegic 

As I Raised It To My Lips

If you can't tell someone where you've been, 

at least tell them where you're going. 

Sometimes, that's not enough for them, 

but more often than not they'll be 

happy to have an idea of what 

you are doing when they think 

of you randomly while at breakfast 

with your placebo, or replacement. 

They'll raise their coffee to their lips 

and right before they take a drink, 

they'll picture you doing whatever is was 

that you told them you'd be doing,

 even if what you are doing is 

trying to 

forget them. 

The waitress 

whose name 

I still have 

yet to ask 

approached 

our table

 and rattled

 me out of

 my thoughts;

I heard the

 boy across

 the table

 rambling

still. He 

  isn't you. 

"More Coffee 

to top it off?"

 she asked. 

"Yes please 

just to warm

 it up,"  

I muttered.

"Sure thing."

"Thanks,"
I said as

  I raised it 

   to my lips. 

Benediction

Is it war if you fight it?

Is it love when you don't?

There is more when you let go

Of the fear that you can't

As we burn in the fire

Slowly learning to breathe

Ooh... but come die with me

Always looking for an underneath

Imagine it's a warning sign

I don't wanna lose more time

Darling, don't you close your eyes

Keep listening - are you listening?

I'm sorry we don't have forever

Ooh... but come die with me

There's a knock in the silence

I see death at the door

But I know we'll be alright

Cause your hands are still warm

The day the smoke starts rising

And all the bombs fall down

Don't wanna be the ones caught hiding

Wanna see the sky when it hits the ground

Imagine it's a warning sign

I don't wanna lose more time

Darling, don't you close your eyes

Keep listening - are you listening?

I'm sorry we don't have forever

Ooh... but come die with me

-Luke Sital-Singh

Standing In Front Of A Podium

I used to do what I had to do because I had to.

Now I do not because I can. 

I don't know what happened. 

I was waiting for you to show. 

Expecting you to know

How much your presence meant to me. 

She died. I didn't know her well. 

I knew you. And I killed you before

You could even live. 

But I didn't do it on purpose. 

I didn't even know I'd done it. 

Not fully. 

So when you told me what I'd done— to you— 

How I made you sick to your stomach with feeling. 

I couldn't grasp it. It made no sense. 

I loved you. 

You loved the idea of me. 

There was a metaphysical gap in there somewhere. 

A rip, a tear. 

You're gone now. 

And I've lain you down. 

You're dead. 

And so is she.
Only difference is,

I went to her funeral. 

And this is your eulogy.

- 6 Foot Reach 

I Keep Running Into Her

I still believe you're there inside 

Hidden in and under and away behind 

The person you are trying to show you've

Become through the eyes in your head. 

     I know if I could only look you in the eye 

           Surprise you

                     Shock you

           Show you I don't believe you for a second 

             You'd unzip yourself from the top of your head

                Underneath your hairline and step out of your

                   Winter skin before it consumes you. 

                       It's not fair, that you should disappear 

                             Into blackness, deeper despair. 

                                     Before you even realize you want out

and can't get out

Can't get out

Can't get out

Like an overly tight dress on a self- conscious girl,

Suffocating and frightening. 

Get out 

Come out 

Come out of this skin. I beg of you.

Cover yourself in your old t-shirts and red-colored jeans.

Purple shoes... Kind eyes. 

Put on your Bullet For My Valentine 

Shirt and knock on my front door. 

But please don't wait for me to answer it,

Just come right in. As you always did. 

Walk into my kitchen like you used to

And hug me from behind. 

Remind yourself of who you are inside.

Come out of this skin.

It's already changing your chin!

It's absorbed your mouth... Your cheek!

Don't let it spread to your hands, your heart, your feet. 

                     Don't do this for her, for him, or for me.

              Do it for happiness. For life. And for yourself. Be free! 

        That's all I want for you. 

    I want you, for you. 

I need you to fight for you. 

    Truly, I do. 

        But don't forget me
           when you leave in search of you. 

               Don't forget me...
                   On this...I won't relent

                             Don't forget

                                         -Her, The One You Finally Bent