the sicker i get, the closer i get to pressing send


my medicine finally started working
although I think she
may have been the cure and
now it’s my birthday and she’s cutting out paper snowflakes
because we never got around to it at christmas
we were too busy
falling in love


my headaches are coming back
they always do and
now somehow I’m sitting in a denny’s parking lot
throwing up and
my lips try to form words around the silhouette of her hands and
she copies me and
our mouths


my good days are still bad and now
all I can see is the back of
hair is longer than the last time I saw
toothpaste is leaving mint flavored foam on her upper lip
I go to wipe it off but she
is just out of reach