i guess i have writing, elsewhere. i found this. from 3 years ago.
I’ve been trying to learn what I can, to have a little free time-
but what is my free time?
but it is
to remember you, all i have left of you, memories, memories, memories.
the yellow hoodie and the clouds in your head / and those sleepy kaleidoscopic eyes, the half, shaded smile with the slight chance of teeth/ and maybe, present us with a laugh, oh that one, a slight crinkle at your jaw.
tearing at your throat,
struggle, struggle, murmuring robot boy.
until you wanted to be human.
did that scare you?
do you remember:
tawdry half-drunken messages in the middle of the night
sushi at evening, me, fumbling for your left overs / little fingers, tiptoeing across your plate
the one hundred dollars i owe you, that you never let me return. i would sneak into your sweater pockets and under the fridge and behind the bed, hiding what i owed you. and when i would wake from the dead, in a whisper and a gasp, eyes wide- i would find it there, returned, right back to me.
when you used to casually pick me up over head, marionette play thing
i remember when, suddenly, you dropped all that armour around you.
you put it back on, the very next day. half on. falsehoods. pride. i would have wore it better, than you.
him. you. me. us.
do you look, with those every eyes?
a hard sort of shell forms around him,
can you crush it with your barehands, so saccharine? will they simply melt into him, dripping, dripping. honey on the kitchen counter. all sugar, everywhere.
and you, you, you.
making no utterance, with a blooming orchid, growing, slowly, ever so slowly, in the insides of your chest. two eyes to fully encompass what is not yours, but was his.
i never looked at you, with one eye shut.
for him. RIP.
i don’t even remember writing this.