The Cat's on the Doorstep

Thanks for giving up on me.


you fold the shirt 

just the same as

you fold back the sheets

when you are next to me.

the clock moves

with your every move

as you zip your things away;

lock them in a place

that i can’t reach.

you tuck away the tickets

in your pockets

saying goodbye

without moving your lips. 


I know I’m strong, but I can feel very weak.
Why can’t things just be simple as a two minute drive.
I’m tired of feeling far away from the one person my heart shares closeness with.
I never want to lose this but I don’t know what to do anymore.
I’m at the point where I can’t live without you.

It would be really nice if I could go one night without crying myself to sleep.


late night drive back to your house

day I spent laying in bed thinking of you while you were gone

warmth of your back on my cold hands

silence of our steady breathing

time we crawled through the orchards

bruises on our necks

night we lay by the candlelight

kisses that made me weak at the knees

day we spent by the river

spots in the city we left our footprints

final kiss goodbye

plane ride


It’s morning. I awaken in a dark white room. The sky is sad today. She consumes the earth with her loss. And for those sitting in their quiet comfortable homes, equipped with the aroma of morning after coffee and Sunday print times, seek comfort in her sadness. And it is for them, that she cries.

I stare at the emptiness and
the emptiness stares back at me.


And then, it happens once more.
And you’re .

after 36 days apart

two hours

will bring me to you.

Don’t read this.

Read More