due to the slow passing of these hours i must say goodbye, im leaving in two weeks and there is one ticket left in the spot you first took me to tell me that you loved me. i love you but you are missing, find me, find yourself, we’ll dance in our living room and draw on each other again until i fall asleep in your arms and wake up in the exact same spot, looking up at your bright eyes looking down into mine.

—too good to be true.

he deleted my remains
as if he were throwing my bones one by one into shallow water, just deep enough to be hidden but painfully obvious enough only to him that i did once exist, like that movie you saw as a kid that you secretly loved, but as soon as a friend asked you about it denied its beauty, just as he denied mine.
as if we were paintings on a wall and the landlord came to erase our remains for all the new tenants looking for a safe place to land.

—it always ends that way.

i drove as far as i could go but it’s never far enough, the edge of town was a horizon filled with orange and grey dust circling up just above the ground as the sun warmed the grass that used to lay down underneath our bodies and leave traces of the secrets we told before the night fell completely over a silent town, but in the silence there are secrets.

—it will eat you whole

i see them look at me now as if i were a victim of some vicious crime, a patient with a disease you only whisper about because there is no cure, i can no longer return to the places that used to belong to us, their eyes tear me apart and break me down even when im not broken, i hear the voices behind closed doors and shuttered windows speaking of me and i want nothing more than to shout at the top of my lungs, but my breath is too shallow and when i try to open my mouth to speak nothing comes out

—youve even got a hold of my voice

i painted my nails and immediately chipped off all of the polish, you talked about the color as if it were a person who kept you company when your nights were lonely and you used to find it hard to indulge in companionship, a friend if you will, one to tell all of your secrets to, but even things as safe as inanimate objects are never secure.

—you of all people should know that


you meant something to us once, you were known for your mind and the painfully honest images you could create using nothing but a pen and paper, the magic that used to come from your words, now i dont know the sight of you from a stranger, a face that blends into any crowd with a voice that falls only on deaf ears, and for once i am not blind to the facts or deaf to the truth. i no longer hear you, nor do i see you..i guess there was never a you to begin with, just a very rehearsed actor who decided himself to close the curtain before the act was over.

—because you were never that honest