Crashdown

You packed up you clothes in that bag every night
I would try to grab your ankles, what a pitiful sight
But after over a year I stopped trying to stop you
From stomping out that door and coming back like you always do

-Peter Silberman in "Two"
_________________________________________________________________________________

Begin: CE 2015-09-04 20:56

T-minus 242:56 to Crashdown

10: Contemplate suggestion.

9: Accept premise. Join together!

8: Plan far future. Sabotage near future. 

7: Maintain status quo. Maintain status quo? 

6: Break down. Begin death spiral

5: Fail to defuse fight. Split apart!

4: Complete death spiral. Vent anger on displaced target. Apologize. 

3: Get fucked up. Recover things previously discarded. Restabilize.

2: Contemplate conclusion. Notify secondarily related parties. Prepare.
1: stall. Second guess. stall. Steel yourself.

0: Cut the cord. forget...

End: CE 2015-09-14 23:52
T-plus 00:00:00

Crashdown

as it seems
two years of you leaning on me
Meant nothing to you
so shall it be
two years of me leaning on you
Mean nothing to me

Your dishonesty is too much to bear
My love is too damaged to continue
Our relationship
Our commiseration
Our celebration
Our connection
Our friendship

is

over



Goodbye
I sincerely hope not forever

Breakfast

I love the dining hall in the morning

The quiet
Space to just eat for once
Instead of the clamor at meals
Later in the day

The intermittent
clatter of the kitchen
making
food for a slow stream
of students

The unity in the union
No one is there to talk
No one to judge you
Just to eat a breakfast

The quiet
Without the silence
Without what permeates my nightmares
Without that sharpest psychological chisel tearing at me
Without any space for that nagging voice in my head to tell me "it's time to go"

I love the dining hall in the mourning

Separation Sonnet

We spent so long together here
I fail to understand "apart"
For all this time I held you dear
Can I ever free my heart?

And when we spoke we'd just connect
So you became my dearest friend
Your fragile soul I still protect
Can that ever really end?

And every time I'd hear your laughter
It heartened me to make it through
I cannot think of what comes after
Can I make it without you?

To answer all these questions: "No"
You shaped and built my self entire
Taught me well to walk through fire
But time has come for me to go
And though at times we still may talk
Our separate ways we have to walk

_________________________________________________________________

Not strictly a sonnet but it combines the first thematic part of an English sonnet with the second thematic part of an Italian sonnet. Fourteen lines just wasn't quite enough to get my point across. It's also in tetrameter instead of pentameter because I just like the sound better.

The Last Thing I Won't Say to You

I asked if it was goodbye. You weren't sure, but if so I guess this is yours. Or at least it's how I feel about yours.
I think I get why now but I'm still torn apart by it because of how I felt about you. I know I told you a thousand times, but I really cared about you. There's another feeling there too, but Doctor Who put it better than I ever could dream to: "I wasn't very good at it, but I did love you." And I think "did" might finally be the right word for it now. I honestly hope so at this point. It's funny, but I knew it would end this way. I knew since before February 15th. The day after Valentine's Day.
The day I started this whole mess.
I was talking about the time before when we watched that movie that's one of your favorites now. I justified why I didn't say anything about how I felt then with this: "if this starts it doesn't end without it ending very badly for one of us." It turns out I was more right than I thought. Because at least for me this is the last way I wanted things to end. I hope you didn't want this either. I hope you cared about me like you said you did, even if it wasn't the way I wanted. But after two whole days of thinking I've decided that maybe this is the way things should be. I listened to "Give Up" on repeat, and it felt like every word described what went down. And I was going to give you the end of Nothing Better but I think this fits more:

"I was the one worth leaving"

I asked if it was goodbye. But regardless of whether or not that was yours, I guess this is mine.
Goodbye to my storyteller, goodbye to my listener. Goodbye to my my ward, goodbye to my protector. Goodbye to my mirror, goodbye to my opposite. Goodbye to my ally, goodbye to my opponent.
Goodbye to my love.
And goodbye to my muse.

I'll never forget you.

Salt and Iron

I opened the door.
I should have known you would be there. It was a Monday morning in January. The day after your birthday. I didn't want to bother you but I had to eventually.
I sat down next to you.
I looked at you while you just lay there. But I couldn't see you for long. Your image became blurry. I shut my eyes as drop by drop salt met iron.
I breathed a heavy sigh.
I remembered how you talked almost every day about being there. I only ever half believed you. You scared me sometimes. I didn't think I really had to be afraid.
I brushed your hair out of your eyes.
I used to call you kiddo all the time. It was our cute little term of endearment for each other. You really were just a kid. Of all people a kid belongs there the least.
I bent over and gently kissed your forehead.
I had to convince you of a lot of things. That you were beautiful, that I loved you. You never really believed me. You believed you didn't deserve any of this.
I embrace you for the la-



Wait.



In your hand.
I know immediately what it is. The pen with which you wrote your final message to me. I tear it from your fingers and throw it as far from us as I possibly can. I burn with rage. Rage at you for doing this. Rage at me for letting it happen. Rage at love for not being enough. Rage at the world for hurting you this way. Rage at that pen for making this even a possibility. I rage rage rage rage rage against the dying of the light.

The dying of your light. Your already dead light. Your light that had been dead for so long but I didn't notice until now. Or I did and couldn't admit it. 

I have beaten the room until I am senseless. My fists cannot unclench, iron drips from my knuckles. My eyes cannot open, salt burns down my face. There is no more rage, only your dead light and mine.
I go and pick up your pen from the corner of the room
I want to go with you, to chase after you. I want to lie beside you and draw the same lines on my skin you did. I settle for a little less. Perpendicular lines that last forever, to remind me of what I could never forget anyway. 


My life joins with yours one final time, then I open the drain, and watch the last of you flow away from me.

Looking Back at the Future

I'm sorry is not enough
It never is but this time especially

I ruined things for you
If only a little bit
But that merits I'm sorry
It merits not enough

In other words
It doesn't merit enough
In other words

I'm sorry is too much
It always is but this time especially

I didn't know how upset you were then so I couldn't say I'm sorry
I shouldn't know how upset you were now so I can't say I'm sorry
You probably don't want an apology so I shouldn't say I'm sorry
You definitely don't want to hear from me so I can't say I'm sorry

In other words
I won't say I'm sorry
In other words

I won't say goodbye
Even though it is
Because I won't say anything
And you won't say anything

And we'll keep not saying anything
And then we won't think anything
And then we won't be anything
To each other

I guess that's okay
I guess that's goodbye
I guess that's too much
I guess that's not enough
I guess that's I'm sorry
I guess I said it