You ask me how are you?
I want to answer I am the after math of you talking about loving me with a mouthful of leaving. But all I reply is a thousand little things which don’t catch your attention.
I say I want to hug you.
But the truth is it’s just arms locked in losing and permanent smiles that don’t fade easily.
I say I’m used to the cold, and these odd digits make me feel hot in spring. But I’m just cold from Frozen nothing’s of your silence.
What a beautiful house you make out of longing. But darling it’s just windowless rooms of pain.
I say I am numb. But it’s a burden to feel the razor sharp cuts of all these fragments of our present.
I know you want me there. Closer to each breath you exhale and even closer when you inhale. I know you want to be able to pull me out like handwritten letters on a day you are craving meaning. I know you want to touch every fibre of my being and turn Sparks into an emergency fire. But try convincing these ears that don’t hear you say these words. The hands that stretch for you but don’t reach your fingers even when you’re near and the legs that pretended it needed crutches. If they agree, I’ll agree”
Photo by Mark Del Mar
“We wrote stories on walls that guarded your guilt and my thrill. You can now go ahead, and paint those walls with choices I left you to take, while I carve goodbye on the stone and rubble I took from that house and now safely keep in this heart”
Picture by Davis Bates
“I think I’ve been way too hard on myself. I was trying to find a float, and reminiscing making life rafts with you that It slipped my mind that I’ve known how to swim since I was 3 years old. I was looking for conversations, that I forgot to initiate some. I was looking for a room filled with lights that I forgot to turn the lights on in my own room. Got to just jump into that lake and turn those lights on. ”
Picture art by Jason Scottish
”Take me back to where it all began. The place I fell more in love with winter. Where, ironically it was about the warmth, that my body now owes yours. When the only people rooting for us, were mountains dressed in white capes and tall pine trees that only lifted my hopes higher” –
Picture Art by Mason Prendergast.
”When you do open your arms I hope they stretch wide enough to hold me from a millenia and oceans away. When emptiness starts to pull me towards its depth, I hope your presence enters with loud thumping sounds of your monstrous feet. And when I do get cold on the inside, I’m certain that your words will work as fine as your lips and steal my heart with all your warmth.
For darling, I’m counting on this giant love”
Art work/ PC by Quinn Corrado
“Just once, let me bathe in the ice cold waters of all this hurt, and let my skin fall prey to all these frost bites and let it just be in sync with this numbness. Let me feel that tingling sensation of pain and remember every other moment that has felt the same. Let all the pain hurt like never before, before it finally gives up and kills the tissue beneath.”