i can't even write.

so you've disappeared, but only slightly. at least you know when to remind me you're here. talking out loud walking down muddy grass, making lists with myself in the drivers seat. i want to write down everything i miss so when the bullet points come back to life i can remember to appreciate them. more importantly for the things that fade for good, i want to remind myself that at some point i missed them. free thinking pieces of my brain flood my system, though they've all started to collect somewhere in my chest. they pulse and they breathe, they wretch and they writhe. collectively these little pieces of you and your reigning chaos sigh and snicker as i edge closer to the wilderness. in the cover of the trees i'm finding it easier to access the pieces i know i've been missing. you've taken away the conversation and the admiration. the melodies and daydreams still fog the air, but i've taken matters into my own hands.

so many things i want you to know

not enough places for me to spit it all out.

i wish you'd always been kept far.