the remnants of yesterday

i.

i'm missing a piece of me. a piece of my soul doused in nostalgia. missing you or missing home. i can barely tell the difference anymore. a strident sense of isolation swallows me whole. there's too much despair, and not nearly enough nicotine. i find myself longing for the days imbued with storytelling and 3 am silence. the days of ringing laughter, knees touching. the serenity of coming home, just a phone call away. it's been too long. all we do is fill ourselves with poison spewing from our mouths. fiery chunks of rage replaces what was once tranquil.

ii.

tick, tock. tick, tock. 

the race to perpetuity seems as punishing as ever. your reverberating presence fades by the second. 

iii.

let's tiptoe back to the times when reality was better than our dreams. the shared sunsets with our intertwined fingers, the shared sunrises with our intertwined souls. look at how the late nights consisting of sweet nothings turned into nights filled with poison and regret. we're overdosing on wrong turns and stumbling our way through your empty promises. once again i find myself struggling to interpret the enigma that is you.

iv.

here’s to abandoned plans of going to see our favorite bands live, and substance-fueled ice-cream runs at 4am. here’s to the unused plane tickets for our clichéd trips to Paris. here’s to unwatched reruns of one tree hill, and untouched boxes of pizza on our shared bed. here’s to the absence of blanket forts and fairy lights. here’s to not living in a cozy one bedroom apartment, just large enough to house our dreams. here’s to not filling our lungs with smoke and affection in cramped balconies. here’s to not writing poetry on each other’s backs. here’s to nails not digging into skin, and the absence of muffled screams. here’s to words left unsaid, movies unwatched, plans unmade. here’s to you.

v.

this silence is intoxicating. the absence of spoken words pitted against pieces of you. from your home to mine, with love. a calculated reminder of my underlying presence amidst your thoughts. an assurance, an apology. look at me, delving into the gray space that is us. a blind jump, everyday. the softness of your sheets, the feel of your skin against mine, followed by months of one-sided exchanges. side by side but never in sync. a blinding darkness, a screeching silence. and yet here i am, cracking my chest open. how else will the light get in? and i'll be here, eyeing your brilliance from a distance. i'll be here, constantly breaking the darkness with a flash of light. i'll be here, infuriated by your nonchalance, your lack of attention. so meet me when it matters. pretend to ease my mind.

vi.

it is what it is; it isn’t much. 

did you think she was the cracks terrorizing your soul? you are gravely mistaken, my darling, for she was the light seeping through them. she wears the moon around her neck these days - an ode to shared laughter and whispered uncertainties. 5am smoke and ashes, and you on the other side. a ticking time bomb, they called it. she could persevere if she pleased. yet she chose to remain abandoned, and at war. your prized possession in pieces. as the words rolled off of your tongue and onto her thighs, a restless fire started within her. an endless cacophony inside her mind, layered with lovely melodies and ringing laughter. you were cold as a knife, so she swallowed her thoughts. the leather gray sky holds her secrets tonight.

vii.

this shirt doesn’t fit me anymore. i’m really fond of it. its seeping with thoughts and memories, but it just doesn’t fit me anymore. it’s got a small hole in the back that keeps tearing open no matter how many times i sew it shut. it tightens around my neck now and i can’t breathe when i put it on, so i keep it in the back of my closet. sometimes i take it out and stare at it in bittersweet reminiscence. but lately its been engulfing me in a sea of confinement from afar. just the thought of it wasting away in my closet can be unsettling. i want to keep it and wear it again, but my insecurities are imprisoned in its sleeves. i soaked this shirt in my inability to discard of things i have outgrown - things that stifle me. it mocks me and holds me hostage, but it also reminds me of how good it looked on me in an attempt to wash out its detrimental qualities. it eyes me up and down and dares me to speak up. it threatens me with familiarity, abuse, and manipulation - i crumble. 

this shirt doesn’t fit me anymore. maybe its time for it to find a new home.