• one more cup of coffee •

• slipping •

i know how it goes
but that does not
in any way
make it easier ;
at least you warned me
this time, my love.

"i'm slipping," you told me
as i sipped a late night
cup of tea.
i knew what that meant,
i knew what was coming.
it's been almost a month,
so i suppose an episode
was far overdue.

have you ever noticed
the way we mirror
the characters of one of
our favorite novels ?

finch, that wild bird,
always running after what
he will never reach,
that is you.

and me, the ever-faithful
and wanderlust-filled
violet markey,
always doing everything i can
to make you stay,
to hold you here
in the present
with me.
(it's never enough.)

it doesn't hurt
like it did at first
because i know it's not
because you don't
care about me
or because you're ready
to move on.

i know you can't help it
i can tell by the lonely,
single hearts you send every few hours.
i can tell by the way
you disappear,
by the way you
always apologize
and come close to crying
when it's all over.

the guilt is stony
in the earth of
your deep brown eyes.

and i am frequently
flying headfirst into
my own maze of
nightmarish thoughts
and blowing up your phone
with messages
when i am
thinking way too much.

this is the give-and-take of
the ocean and the shore
of a planet and its star
of a balloon and gravity.

as long as we never run out of chances for each other
we'll be alright, love.