i can't see the sky for the trees. i mean, sky, fallen leaves, inner child i loved and looked down upon all at once. when you said i wasn't listening, you were wrong. when you said i didn't care, i didn't care. i said we'd meet again, and i was wrong. i said i'd love you forever and i still do.

my own personal 15 minutes were with you, bent over the bannister. i have it on tape, in my head, my afternoon movie. my morning weather. everything else is grainy and overcast.

you and your wednesday's deluxe. me and my mission. i saw a boquet of poppies today and it made me think of you. i saw an ambulance scream down 3rd today and it made me think of you. i saw the word "heart" mispelled today and it made me think of you. you once wrote that i would always be in your hart, and i wonder if that's still tru.

and i feel that it's okay to still wonder these things, outloud, because i'm back in that space like nothing ever really changes it just hurts less the next time around. i wouldn't have gotten here if none of it mattered. i'm picking at scabs. i'm lighting the dark. your spider. it's in here.

it's autumn and i'm missing everything.

the first half a poem by yehuda amichai i wrote down once
while mourning and seeking wisdom in a library