Killing myself seems like a better idea every day
I’ve been keeping the blood I cough in bottles
So I can paint you every gory feeling
That spans the landscape of this heart
You see, at one point I thought I understood it/this/us
But I didn’t, not really.
I never fully grasped the muchness of it
The over eager July morning of it.
I understood nothing.
For you are everything I never expected, and everything I want
Because I used to lay in my bed and wish that I could find someone like you.
If you cut me open I’m afraid you’d find nothing but autumn leaves,
and the collection of letters I’ve been writing since you left- the words I’d hoped could get us through the winter