The year of swiss cheese heart with a black puncture

After people are gone, you are left with dark, people-shaped, holes in your heart.

After people are gone, they never leave two holes alike in two hearts aside. 

After people are gone, you will slowly fill their holes with colourful memories. 

After people are gone, you can still get a warm harlequin hug from a hole in your heart. 

 

And what of that tiny black hole that didn't get a shape? 

And what of that tiny black hole that has no memories? 

And what of that tiny black hole that will suck you in if you get too close? 

And what of that tiny black hole with sharp edges that will cut you deep if you stare too long? 

And what if time dulls all edges and turns black grey? 

 

You have as much heart as it's left from colourful holes and grey abysses. 

You have as much heart as people to love. 

You have as much heart as you need, if you only let it grow. 

 

For the holes in my heart. And the people that share them. 

For me.

yesterday I wasn't

We outgrow our toys. And then throw them away and build new ones.
We outgrow our books. We read others and then write poetry.
We outgrow our music. And in the silence learn to listen to our insides.
We outgrow people. And sometimes our people outgrow us.

if you were food, then I

Let's imagine I'm lost somewhere on a deserted island.
At some point I will get pretty hungry. So hungry in fact that I might start eating tree bark. I don't think I would normally eat tree bark.
I feel watched. A cannibal is trying to make friends, but I have this feeling he just wants to eat me whole. I don't want to be anybody's meal.
I'm hungry. I have a cookbook with me. I've been carrying it around for a while. I can't eat paper and I'm starving. Tree bark makes cinnamon, doesn't it?

dear pieces of void,

You come to me and put yourself in the center of my attention. I wish you came to me and put myself in the center of your attention. But at least you come to me every now and again.

You say I am awesome and amazing. You say it's not me, it's you. No, it's not me, it's her.

I say you're gone and lost me. Maybe I just forgot how to make myself interesting enough for you to want to keep me.

You say you need to go there and make a life for yourself. My life misses you here.

You say I was unfair to you. I am not perfect. You are not perfect. I say I forget to be fair to me.

I would be me, except I forgot who you wanted that to be.