but if jesus is still

awake i wonder if he'd tell me

at what age

he disconnected his

gmail from his dad's

and if it came out of a place of

anger or if he just turned eighteen

one day and decided to

change his password.

but if he stays up late like i do, i'm

already feeling this sense

it's

probably not the latter.

when i was nine years old i

crashed my grandmother's laptop.

do you think she remembers this

every time

she searches for youtube?

probably not, but i do.

i've written the same ghost

story book over and over again, it's

the one 

i'd steal from the scholastic

book fair and hide; it's

the childhood bible

that i never picked up.

have my parents ever thought that maybe

their child is mad at them?

is everyone's heavenly daddy

immune to this, am i 

the system error? is my father's

hallowed name restored?

i have been thinking this

in every different brain in this body

for months, i cannot

close my eyes to sleep 

without seeing a hand coming to pluck me from this

hell and drop me into another one.

when i was nine years old i

let my friend run me over

on my new bike.

does she think of this when she

wins races now at college?

i still care.

it still lives in my mind,

a feeling of fire and tangling of

legs.

and if god didn't 

leave his son i wonder if things

would have turned out different for every other

kid in the brown green earth,

because if you can't even get the attention of your

dad as some sub-human

sub-god 

person thing

then what the

living hell am i supposed to do

when all mine cares about is my

geometry grade and 

old gmail

and the search history i've

deleted hours ago?

i hope i can still find it

sometime after this, if it can't

seem to dig itself into a grave.

they say once you do something it will 

always be out there so i've

grown up hoping

everything is forever.

that my best friend never dies. that

my grandmother never dies.

that my childhood bike can

decompose into the earth 

and see me again someday. someday, maybe...

when i was nine i found a dead cat on the walkway near my house.

does god plan this when he makes the animals?

i'm sure he probably does.

lacuna / noun

an unfilled space, gap

She sits down and starts to talk. Letting everything out, all her joys and the sadness. It takes a lot of time before she’s done, but the words seem to bring her relief. So she continues. Telling him about things that have been stuck in her insides, rotting for years. Thoughts and problems that she has been struggling with for so long.

And as she says all that’s been needed to be said, he sits there beside her. Staring at her calmly and holding her hand. He knows how hard this is for her, so he doesn’t interrupt. Instead, sits there silently, almost not moving. Just nodding from time to time and trying to understand. There is no judgment in his eyes, no anger. Not anymore.

Regrets are set aside, bad memories put away somewhere in the cardboard boxes that will leave this home with him. Everything that stood between them is now tucked away. Replaced by the assurance that they are doing the right thing. Finally, on the right path, in a place where they were heading for some time now. A place where they should have been ages ago. But there was always something stopping them. The comfort of being together for such a long period of time, the safety of a steady relationship. A safe haven of sorts that made them stay. Because the alternative of being by themselves frightened both of them. Not for the same reason, but still, it was enough to stay.

Even if it didn’t work out between them like it used to. Even though it was all falling apart and they were heading for the rails, big time. They still held on to each other, in desperate need of balance and a strong base to stand on when everything else was crashing fast. They had issues beyond fixing, things they couldn’t beat, no matter what. Both damaged in different ways but damaged still.

She held a grudge against him for a painful loss that fitted in her hands, and yet the size of that loss was so enormous that it made her soul darker, heavier, polluted. It was hard to look at the man she loved and think about what she had to sacrifice because of him. It was something that constantly stood between them, what lay in their bed, colder than the sheets covering their bodies on a Winter’s day.

She often stared at him and felt nothing, literally nothing. She would look at him while he worked on his computer or when he read the newspaper and wonder. Tilling her head to the side and just staring. As if he wasn’t the person she had once fallen for, but a strange specimen of a man. An odd bug under the microscope. She just couldn’t understand what happened to them. What happened to her feelings and the love that seemed to outstretched its limits. But still, she stayed.

Because leaving him, would mean leaving some of the feelings she couldn’t let go of. Not yet. She didn’t want to forget about her loss, latching onto it. Afraid she might lose it in a completely different way, and that upset her. The possibility she might forget about her little treasure. As if it had never existed. As if it was never there. All of her hopes, all of the expectations. Dreams and future plans; plans that would no longer come true. And still. It was so hard to let go. So she would stay, not for him or for the forgiveness that she wanted to give him so many times, even when it felt like there was nothing left in her to give.

And now, as she looks at him, there is no more anger in her, just peaceful words that come out in a long stream. Never stopping, never-ending. She speaks, her voice already horse, and he listens. Knowing that every one of those words are needed. That this is good for her, it’s therapeutic. It lets her relax, let go of the pain. He squeezes her hand tighter, and she gives a small smile. Relief and tiredness in her taking equal space. He takes a deep breath, almost choking on relief of his own, and decides to say something before he changes his mind.

I have always loved that smile, Marley.

She stares at him almost surprised to hear his voice. There have been so many words from her and nearly none from him. But that’s okay. He understand what she had to do here. What was needed to be said. She squeezes his hand back, and the corners of her mouth lift slightly again. Something inside her that feels almost good, a strange spark that fills her up and tickles her skin. Proving that there still was some life in her left. A fire that she needed to start breathing again, always so oxygen-deprived.

It feels odd... as if I’m not doing it right.

He gives her a pained look. Sad that he was the reason for this. Sorry that they had to go through so much before understanding how wrong it was and what it had done to them. He takes a deep breath and lets her know with his eyes that it’s all going to be alright. They are going to be fine.

Just remember the sensation and repeat it every day.

She nods once and continues. Words flowing once again. So much has been said already, and yet it still wasn’t enough. He stares at her smooth face and listens calmly, thinking and counting her freckles. He always loved those; it was such a beautiful imperfection. His eyes shift slightly down to her hair as the light shines through the window. He looks at them and wonders what their little girl’s hair would have been. Would they be fair and straight like hers, or would they be brown and messy like his? He wonders at this and thinks again about the small things that made him stay in a relationship that was falling and crumbling apart in the same way that their hearts did.

Silly, meaningless things. A joint account, the furniture they had bought together, paying off a student loan, and the stack of CDs filled with music they both liked. And some of the bigger stuff, like mutual friends and memories made in the time, they were together. They were happy once and loved each other in a way that he never dreamed of might be even possible. And yet it was. Even if it seemed like some past life by now.

And then his mind turns to their families. How his mum stayed with them at the worst time. And how his dad built a swing in the backyard that was meant to be for... He is unable to finish the thought, so instead wraps his fingers tightly against hers, and she nods again. Understanding. His pain, that of her own.

Just a little longer, Sam.

He nods as well and lets go of her hand, a bit scared that he might eventually break it, all those emotions filling the room, too intense for either of them. He sits back against the couch and looks at his hands placed on his knees, listening while she talks about their past and smiles as she hopes for the future. Separate, but hopefully a happy one. Minutes pass, turning slowly into hours. The sun, setting quietly against the darkening sky, the room filling with deeper colors and the night itself. And slowly, it all comes to an end. And when she says all that there is to say, and explains all, that there was to explain, and there is nothing else to say, she finally can allow herself to breathe. They both can.

They smile at each other and get up, bodies tired, limbs stiff but minds at peace.

He pulls his arm around her, and she falls into him, naturally, no hesitation. Allowing herself to remember him for the man that he was. And remembering the girl that once couldn’t live without a boy, that one day stole her heart as she wasn’t looking. A different girl, in a different time. She smiles again, knowing now that she was still there, somewhere deep inside, underneath all the dust and rubble that came along the way.

A girl that could change the world

with a boy that made her smile.

A boy that somehow still made her smile.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hM_kejkWeHU

Lewis Capaldi - Fade (Official Audio)

my soul has a bruised structure

that's centered somewhere under the tissue

breathing and exhaling air with carbonated fumes

trying to extract all the lifetimes

that they let me stay with you

humming a melody that's settled into my bones

imprinted with a tattoo

that's branded so deeply into these ribs

if you let me paint you over my skin

then the black ink

would spill out the letters of your name

letter by letter marking my path

to you

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L9R2A3gNkpk (song video)

the dreams i had about you came true

and the words that i had wished would roll

from your delicate lips had touched my ears

it was all i could do to contain the feelings within

me like a million dandelions bursting into bloom

their seeds scattering on the green fields of my soul.

but i guess you weren’t meant to stay

but rather to be used as a lesson to teach me

that little red riding hood wasn’t just a bedtime story

told to my six-year-old self but rather something we

encounter many a time in our life. that people can be wolves

even though they say the most beautiful things as if

they are truths, like dew landing on the blades

of summer grass in the early morning.

and now whats left of the once green field i call my heart

is a rugged and torn ground, dried up and cracked from the

lack of tears and emotions. i should feel something

honestly i think i’m quite broken for your words do

no damage anymore but rather slip through the cracks

that you’ve already marred into me.