For the one that doesn't exist

We are sitting in our backyard. I reach over and touch the cornerstone of my home. I don't need words here, I don't need actions.

I have too many memories, that's why I don't like to think. When I think, I wonder why we let children get old and learn things we once hid from them. I wonder what the point is of knowing when I don't really want to know.

But I don't have to worry about that here. We're in the shade of two mulberry trees on a hot summer day in the Bermuda grass. I'm happy about what I don't know. I'm happy because knowing it would keep me away from you.

I come back to reality. Here, where you don't exist. Everyday, hidden behind every interaction, I am pouring libations on your grave that you might speak to me, I am building you an altar.

so sick and tired of all these pictures of me

todays the day
everybody, be an asshole to me today
please.
i want it all at the same time
altogether now
maybe i can take it better if i see you for who you are
all on the same day
all at once
and then tommorrow i won't be your friend anymore
i won't look at you
i won't talk to you
and i'll be utterly alone

but that's still better than just waiting for it to spring on me
waiting and hoping that things will be okay
that maybe there is someone like me
someone who gives second and third chances
leaves room for growth
but no one grows here
only me, growing into a contorted shape
i am misshapen on the inside
to make room for the change you never make
and all the room you take up in my conscience
i space myself out and cut holes through my chest
you walk on bits of me
and dont ever look up at others
no wonder you dont like me
you can hardly see me as i hold myself apart to make room for you

sometimes it makes me angry, but this is the life i have chosen right.
so be an asshole today
please please please please