I Think A Part Of Me Will Always Be A Little Bit In Love With You

I didn’t want you to know,
but I took pictures of your room before I left
traced my jagged fingertips across the soft spots
the places where we touched
before there was a ghost in the bed

And I will remember your things scattered around
your messy sheets
us linked for the first time
our hands
our breathing
our nervous silence
our I’ve waited so long for this

And I will remember walking through town
the cold air
the heart-shaped leaves
the ghosts of the past
the churches
the grass

Sometimes we don’t speak
Your eyes are dark holes
and your mouth tries to form words
but it won’t

I don’t know what to say to you
except that your memory is a burning building
and we are constantly in flames

I don’t know what to say to you
except that you are in every single poem I write
and if I am being honest, you are the poem

I don’t know what to say to you
except to say everything,

that our time is always short
that I would rather burn than to spend
my entire life waiting

and you are sitting in front of me in your chair
sketching or writing
about different worlds that you create
but all I ever want to write about is ours

the one that we can’t have
the one that I always get a taste of
before it disappears in my mouth

You are my nostalgia,
I don’t think you know this

You are my downfall,
I don’t think you know this

You are the house that is always burning
the one that I am always consumed by
the one that I set on fire
years ago

You are the poem

and I don’t think you know this

but I will always be
in some kind of love
with you.