Seriously;
if it takes a thousand years
then I must try
if it takes a million years
then I must try
to catch her, catch her, catch her
I remember when the days were long,
and the nights when the living room was on the lawn
constant quarreling, the childish fits, and our clothes in a pile on the ottoman
all the slander and double-speak
were only foolish attempts to show you did not mean
anything but the blatant proof was your lips touching mine in the photobooth
if it takes a thousand years
then I must try
if it takes a million years
then I must try
to catch her, catch her, catch her
left by the lamp, right next to the bed,
on a cartoon cat pad she scratched with a pen,
“everything is as it’s always been.
this never happened.
don’t take it too bad it is nothing you did.
it’s just once something dies you can’t make it live.
you’re a beautiful boy.
you’re a sweet little kid but I am a woman.”
pouring over photographs.
I’m living in your letters.
breathe deeply from this envelope
it smells like you and I can’t be
without that scent. It’s filling me
with all you mean to me. to me.
continually failing these trials
but you stand by me nonetheless
and you won’t let me sink
though I’m beggin you, I’m begging you
phone calls from further away
and messages on my iCloud,
but I don’t ever tell you this distance
seems terrible.
I’ve got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water, and pictures of you
and I’m not coming out until this is all over.