i hang by the string attached to your lashes

the air is soft around us as we dance, gliding through the clouds.

earth seems small.  like a mound of dirt, so easily crushed.  if we were to blow hard enough, we could be the winds to tip it over.  we are god.

or the equivalent to.










soar with me.
take my hand and fall through
the water and the land.

we will watch as the lights
break over the road,
shattering like fireworks.

if you close one eye
and hold your hand to your face,
you can trace the circumference of the sun.

we are never too feeble
to breathe until tomorrow.






















I will hold your lungs till they fail.  then I will bottle them so everyday I will be with you.  you fight the cancer but I can see weakness like a half-drained battery.
you hum,
but your sound is softening.























a tear hangs from the corners of your eyes, but it doesn’t move.  it’s like a diamond someone has glued as a joke.
but I’m not laughing.

you look three steps away from collapsing, the liquid down your throat is coming back up.  blackness is painted on your skin and you look like a silhouette of  gravity, falling.

unbalanced.

I’m not the strong one, I can’t fix you.
and it hurts.






the phone lines
are full of the forever’s
that I couldn’t hold.




I said goodbye and you promised I wouldn’t need those words. 
but I heard the choke and I heard the struggle.



























‘will you hold a photo of me beside your grave?’

my head was spinning.  there was too much silence, too much noise.  my stomach was too empty, too full.  I couldn’t walk in a line, but in spirals always ending where I begun.

I cried for the first time in three years, watching as the sky we painted broke open. 

your mouth was slightly ajar and rain fell into it, pooling.
you didn’t even notice.

I clutched your frail fingers, careful not to disturb the marrow disintegrating beneath them.  your irises were weakening, turning pallid.  you hadn’t seen the sun for a while now and it was beginning to show.  you were trying to build your courage like Lego blocks, I could see it.

but you needn’t bother.

‘no.
no, because my bones will decay next to yours.
forever.

like we promised.’


















I watched quietly as death crept into your eye sockets and emptied your veins.






























‘like we promised.’