goodbye @ 1:54 a.m.
moving out

I’m screaming sideways to drown out the sound of my tears shattering all along every secret sewn shut inside of a shell I fashioned out of an unconditional apprehension and a pair of mismatched socks/ I sell my soul to survive, I trade teeth for an empty aching so significant it sucks me all the way in before the packing even begins to begin I drink sleep through a straw while singing something obtuse and staring at the room so white and naked now
the shape of my desire is flawlessly flat and I’m filled to my lips with wanting what I can’t have. an insipid temptation to tear down all the photographs I positioned so perfectly on the wall beside my bed scratches my tender and torn throat when I try to say that I’ll miss you, just as I kiss you, I start to cry, five months and this is goodbye. This is where we embrace all of the ways we’ve changed since we’ve shared our souls and sold each other our secrets for promises that we continue to keep in shoeboxes and storage closets, carrying a bag, two boxes, and a letter explaining why you always listened to me, I depart, the door shuts, and all that is heard is the fracturing of my heart
when best dressed in drying my eyes and wearing the worst of my self on my sleeve [three fourths of this silence is louder than my sobbing/choking/shaking/heaving over all that I am leaving] you’ll see something beautiful bending around the happiest times I’ve ever had.