i can remember all the times we sat in your room and played out feelings like instruments.
the television would hum
and the computer would blink like an eye,
still we pulled words from the silence,
we placed them in chronological order,
memories falling like stars into place.

we would brake open the skin and see we were so
alive in our own insignificant corner of the world,
not knowing how much it would hurt to let go.
i feel like i have stopped breathing, my pulse is erratic,
racing then slowing to stop and wonder the keys, dripping like hot wax, until it is burned out,
nothing left but a shadow.
you now reach out and skim the tops of mountains with your fingertips
and pick flowers from your mind,
your own incoherent children.

i no longer can see you with two eyes and a heart,
i can no longer watch as words flow like water,
from phrases you construct,

the laughter still rings in my ears but it is only echo's.
it is no longer solid,
no longer real enough
to come back tomorrow.