July 8, 2017 4:06 Am

i pile pillows high on the right side of the bed hoping that in the morning you won't be in my head. and when i wake and all these pillows are deflated i'll burrow deeper still and think of all the times i've ever waited for you to make a choice and tell me so; do i get to keep you, or do i let you go? like last summer when we really first began, you told me that you could no longer hold my hand. "we argue too much" that's what you said. a second time we've seen this place, a second time i lay in bed. maybe i will think about late nights in your dark car and our whispered nothings that drove our love so far. perhaps the sweetened moments when you fingers touched my bare skin. but while i still feel goosebumps, all you feel is sin. most of all i will remember the small moments that you kept. i thought of these for long days after; my heart and i both wept. from long-life plans to squandered goals hopefully when i wake my heart will be half full because you said forever and it tore me apart, it hurt so bad i swear i was dying, when you told me that you don't want to love me anymore as if our love was a speed bump in your path to divine understanding and acceptance but all the understanding in the world cannot equate the loss of your soul next to my soul on this long train ride of hard labor and tireless dreams that keep me awake when i should be next to you. now your seat is empty, so is my bed, and i am lucky to find you no longer saying i love you in my head.