I keep trying to write poems about new days and road trips to happiness, 

the sky and tall buildings, things that make me feel small

the earth and mystery, songs that make people better

but my body refuses them, they sift right through me like air

Your trapped in my brainwaves and I don’t know how much of you is there

If one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone, like you never existed

Or if I’ll continue breathing you out with every laugh, sigh, cry for something different

So I write you into my skin, because you beg to live there, swimming around in my bloodstreams and popping up for air every time you hear me say

I think I’m doing better

I forgot his street name today

The sound of his name didn’t sting as much that time

Every single god damn rhyme sounds like your smile

and all the things that made it worthwhile

And that’s the last thing I need, poems stuck on a person who will never be stuck on me