if i stop listening to sad songs
does it really mean it's over?

you are everywhere.
i put it all in a box and leave it in the doorway.
i don't close the box because there is a secret building
that i hope you'll trip over it one day
and feel sad for us, that you should find
all of the things that used to matter in a box, forgotten.

i sit next to some happy lesbians
on the bus and i can't help but think to myself,
"look at them, you can tell that it's the beginning
because they're not afraid to touch each other in public.
they want everyone to know about the sex they're having later."

i want you to know i am sleeping with the cat now.
i think that i'll wake up one day
and i'll have smothered him but maybe there is a code of cat partnership
that knows when its human is sad because i swear,
these last few mornings there is only his head peeking out from my body
and his paws embracing me, saying, "i know you need this."

i keep resting my hands on the edge of the pillowcase
because it reminds me of the space of skin between the bottom of
your shirt and the elastic of your underwear.
i wonder if you've been wrapping your legs around cold beef
because they remind you of my thighs.

i want to be better than wishing you were suffering.
i want people to stop asking me where you are.
i want to wear a shirt that says,
"ready to have drunken sex with strangers"
and find the one person who just wants to talk.

i am sure that you are hiding this better than me.
that you are being hip and funny with a group of friends i don't know
so that when you all hang out it isn't awkward.
i wonder if someone asked you where i was
and you maybe winced because you didn't know.

if it was possible i'd put myself in the box
and sleep there until i didn't give a shit anymore.
i'd cover myself with your stupid gifts and t-shirts
and books and when i woke up i wouldn't even know you anymore.
and i would stop being so boring,
that girl you have to invite places because she's so depressed lately
but really you wish she'd just stop talking about her break up.

but next week,
i will have this figured out a little more.
and i'll be able to talk to my mom without crying.
and i'll start leaving the house again
and you won't seem like such a big deal.

maybe next week i'll seal that box right up
and just send it to you.

02/12/2010

Posted on 02/12/2010
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