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I'm Not Sure If I Care Anymore, But That's More For You To Say

when will i be able to look at a picture of you
and not imagine your mouth open
of all the things i would ask of you
this is the one thing i need you to answer
and answer me truthfully.
because this is the real torture.
this is the absence of your heat
this is real and bitter cold.
cold feet without your legs to stick them under
blue lips without yours to find
to draw from
this is the moment after
when your tongue collided with mine
for such a small fraction of a second
i could feel you fill me up
immediately to feel the crushing weight of all of it pulling back away
this is it.
this is the vacuum collapsing.
a big bang of sorts.
this is how you never understood that your body is a feeling, too.
this is the absence of friction
no spark means no flame and it is cold as space
because when you crashed into me
we were tectonic plates
sliding along each other
grinding painfully to a halt
pushing up against one another
forces of the earth colliding.
i always thought mountains were beautiful.
this is realizing that we both piled the dirt between us.
i am not the only one that lost you
but i am the only one who feels lighter
the only one missing the headrush
i feel air around my waist where hands should be
air where hands should be wandering and
air in my lungs
where it should be you.
i feel nothing where everything was you.
and they slowly fill me up
i become solid
until another night will come when the stars are too heavy
and conveniently they're not there to show me there is more to love.
there is more to life than a hollow girl and her new hollow dreams
a hollow routine and a hollow degree.
call me gone.
call me broken, or call me sick.
but please
please, do not call me back to you.

Last few words: 
late nights fucking suck sometimes you know
Editing stage: 


I read through this a few times...
and still havent quite caught its voice..
but then....this is true with authors of books
and some poets that I read...

often taking many poems before the
beat starts to arrive in its pattern...
this is a good thing...Your poem is not
difficult to shifts amazingly
fluid in its discourse from beginning
to end...

More so its a great example in how to
unravel the structure of emotion and
feeling like a sculpture...

in this one the true loss of the poet
is truly explained....the poet muse
of which many poets squander
lives figuratively and virtually
the intensity of an attraction even
one sided is a very fulfilling event

Its very personal and well
written I find!

Thank You!

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