There is a year that has never left me.
It has successfully stitched sickening moments into my skin and branded silent screams into my soul.
Some nights I imagine that those memories could be burnt away. As if my pain could curl up and combust like paper that has been lit on fire.
As if I could strike a match against the faint patchwork of scars stretching across my thigh and flick a sulfuric flame onto everything odious that happened that year.
I always hope that it burns fast.
And I always pray that it ignites your name first.
Tag: Me
Powerscourt
Tethered
One more fiber of the rope
tethering us together has been cut.
Now it has been severed to the point
that either one of us may completely
drift away at any given time.
I would reach for your hand to keep me afloat,
but sadly it has not been present for quite some time.
Yet maybe instead of drowning in these desolate depths without you I will finally learn to fly.
Why should I continue counting on you and your cold constraints when I no longer care to be grounded?
Collided
We didn't touch, we collided.
Without hesitation our bodies
melded and merged into one.
Leaving us unable to separate
and unwilling to try.
Her 10
Absent
Over the years I became the definition of detached.
I became the shell of a person that wanted to look as interesting as the amount of numbness she felt for everything around her.
I spent too many of my days alive while not truly living and I wasted more of my time behind a facade than a picturesque home with no walls.
So I was never truly present within the moments you now refer to as memories.
If I was there with you, sadly all you memorized was my absence.
Her 9
Scenarios
I have tried to imagine all of the moments that I could bump into you.
As if I could compel corny, casual encounters that are made explicitly for the cinema into existence.
Maybe it's during a late night trip for cereal at the grocery store, an early morning stop at the gas station, or a mid-afternoon pill pick up at the pharmacy.
Maybe we reach for the same box, we arrive at the same time, or we stumble into the same softly lit aisle.
But maybe within each scenario something inevitably goes wrong.
All the shelves in the cereal aisle are completely empty, every fuel pump is forlornly flagged as out of service, and somehow I completely forgot to refill my prescription.
I have tried to imagine all of the moments that I could bump into you, but it just never works.
How could my mind ever create a place that will never exist for a person who is no longer there.
Consciousness
I dread those brief seconds of unawareness and uncertainty upon waking up.
My eyelids barely open and my brain immediately panics as it begins to recalibrate itself with a barrage of questions.
What time is it? What day is it?
Am I supposed to be somewhere today? Did I miss something?
I recollect my surroundings, orientating myself back to reality as the window shades shift shadows across my room's smooth walls.
My consciousness resumes.
My body relaxes.
It's noon on a Thursday.
I have no where to be and I have missed nothing.
Her 8
AO Poetry 
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