waiting 10/19/26

There are oceans between us. Rivers I drown in. 

My body is a river overflowing with so much, I feel so much love and it's spilling and

I didn't know, I didn't mean to (Did I?)

I feel shattered, like thick, sharp glass lying all around, drenched in red

we were floating, i was (for seconds)

and then unforeseen (or maybe foreseen) the invisible spool of thin glass tragedy unwound around us, threading its way through hopeful hearts, it slipped beneath the lids of bright eyes, must have found its way into every little hidden crevice

it nicked

the soft parts

and turned us bloody with disappointment

the gentle devastation of mutual let down: worse, the tragedy in expectation. no let down necessary, no answer given. no yes or no or maybe or 

the pain of explanation

just silence and pocket veto: This is me

not knowing, still, why or what it means, what I mean

always waiting and never acting

never asking

never saying what I mean: "You're beautiful" and "I want to see you" and

"Are you okay?" 

Just staring at your poetry and feeling the pressure of real tragedy unfolding 

the tragedy of noncommunication and not knowing

does anyone understand you? i feel your words like all the beauty and unanswered anticipation and emotion that's been pressing in on me, like the endless ache of a desire insatiable. i feel like i'll break or like i'm missing something (you) and i hug my knees to my chest and shake and wait

everything seems to be falling apart