He told me I was the sun. I only later realized he was the moon.

Yes, the moon is full. Look at it, do you see it? It’s large, the biggest it’s been all year! Look at how it fills the sky. It’s so bright; barely any stars can be seen. How selfish, the moon. Do you ever wonder how the Sun suffers? While the moon looks so beautiful, it’s all a lie. All that glow, that illumination–a lie. It isn’t real, no. It’s borrowed-nay, stolen.

Funny, isn’t it?

The moon steals the sun’s light and you stole mine.

Even if you don’t love me anymore

Even if you don’t love me anymore,

I’ll make you a memory;

I’ll think of you at 3am, staring at my fan as it spins  because I’m too sad to get up and turn off the light.

Your name will be burned into my tongue, my throat, the backs of my teeth.

Fresh cotton–don’t think for a second I won’t remember how you smell like clean laundry. I loved that.

I’ll avoid the sushi place on West 23rd because the table in the left corner is where I realized I loved you.

My fingers will hover over my phone’s keyboard as I ultimately decide not to delete your number. I don’t know why I even attempted to try.

Even if you don’t love me anymore, I’ll continue to be miserable. Don’t pity me. That misery is mine. You took everything else but you can’t make me numb. I won’t allow it.

A Breeze on the Weathered Hill

I sat upon a weathered bank,
feet hanging over
as the water clank;
Half assured I would not fall,
half aware I did not care at all.
The pointed reef below did not scare
as I took in a breath of salty air.
Time did pass and with an awaited breeze
the thought of death it seemed to tease.
As my back braced up against the weight
I pondered my lowly state;
The rocks did seem such inviting friends
But nay, what a terrible end!
I’ll simply float away and down,
I said to myself with no sign of a frown.
The blue was like a blanket, warm
but its icy state seemed to warn.
One step, two steps, three, four and five
I took another for I was still alive.
The cold set in and my self did shiver
but never did my intent quiver.
I would lay here for as long as it took,
no matter how my body shook,
I would wait for time to render me still,
and finish here in the water
underneath the weathered hill.

Things I Still Don’t Know:

if you greet your dog with a hug every time you return home

the flavor of toothpaste you use (I hate cinnamon flavored, personally)

if you like milk or sugar in your coffee and how much of each

if you are allergic to peanuts or grass or pollen or something ridiculous like pumpkins (I am)

if you call your mom every week or only on the major holidays

the tv show you watch as a guilty pleasure when you’re bored

what you do after a long day of work to relax

the way you smell (fresh cotton laundry detergent with a hint of something I can’t figure out)

the number of miles between us

the sound of your voice when you are sad

if your cheeks turn a bright pink or a deep red when you blush

the exact color of your eyes (kind of blue with splotches of green and brown)

the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth when I can’t hear it

if you think about me at all

if you miss me at all

if you love me at all

If I love you at all (actually, I think I know this one)

If any of this is even worth it (this is the hardest one)