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I am still so in love with the person I thought you could be that I forgot to fall in love with who I’ve become without you.

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sleep

I finally understood the saying “home is not a place, but a feeling” when we laid in the hotel room for 3 hours counting each other’s heartbeats between arm wrestles and tickle fights. when you held my hands above my head and giggled before kissing my nose because you loved the way I scrunched it when you got close. I traced your tattoo for 20 minutes straight while you hummed along to the only band we’ve ever agreed on. I knew I found my home in you when I tried to sleep and couldn’t find comfort without your erratic breathing beneath my ear. that night I realized your chest is the bed I want to fall into every night and avoid getting out of in the morning, please don’t make me wake up.

sleep

this body is a graveyard

graveyards have started to feel a hell of a lot more like home than this god forsaken house ever could. it’s easier to sit in front of strange graves in beds of grass and weeds than even consider looking at the empty space where your shoes used to block the doorway, where you turned our welcome mat into an ashtray. the comfort I find in headstones from people I’ll never know is nothing compared to how I felt pressed against your chest listening to your own voice boom within your ribcage; shaking the walls with every consonant you let escape your mouth. the overwhelming sound of silence across the grounds is all that I can hear in my hallway now that your laughter isn’t lingering between the wallpaper and drywall. I swear to god I hear wilting pedals from forgotten bouquets the second my ear touches my damn pillow every night, I miss your snoring. I’ve found sick comfort in the way the grass is welcoming and forgiving, the way it happily took every poem I wrote about you and decayed them into the earth beneath it. I’ve left every trace of you I had at that fucking graveyard but I still can’t bear to wash my sheets. I’m as good as dead to you and maybe that’s why I’ve found a home 6 feet under every word I’ve bled out in your name rather than in this house and body you abandoned.

this body is a graveyard

I promise

If I ever get the chance to love you forever I promise you I will do it to my greatest capacity. I promise to listen to you when you get so invested in conversation you ramble for hours. I promise to accept you when you’re being stubborn, and fight you when you’re wrong. I promise to learn how to make your favourite meals from your mother, I know her cooking will always be your favourite. I promise to find every freckle on your body. I will kiss every single one. I promise to always say see you later rather than goodbye. I promise to protect you from heartache to the best of my ability. Actually, I promise to help you through heartache when it comes our way. You’ll never be alone. I promise to kiss you when you first wake up even though we both know you get smelly. I promise to be your biggest fan and greatest supporter. I promise to scratch your back and pop your back pimples. I promise to watch your favourite television show even if I could honestly care less. I really don’t care about zombies. I promise to never let us become your parents. I promise to never let you be like your father. I promise to never let you be like my father. I promise to be the best mother if you let me. I promise to tuck you in when you’re drunk and give you water and Advil when you’re hungover. I promise to be your home. I promise to make our house as home-y as possible. I promise to race you up the stairs. I promise to keep myself positive. I promise to let you pick me up when it feels like I can’t do it myself. I promise to laugh at your baby photos with your sister and to talk to your father about his hobbies. I promise to make fun of you for being a mama’s boy. I promise to love you for it, too. I promise to love you with every bone and muscle in my body. I promise to love you more than I did the day before. I promise to love you and love you and love you and lo

I promise