my desperate head.

you worry about the length of your legs. you worry about the part in your hair. that you are going to go bald. you are sure your hairline looked different before. you apologize to your body for what you had done to it in the past. you secretly apologize to those who had to see it. you wish and wish and pick up feathers and you loved an insect and eat less and walk and try to laugh and you cook and you go to bed at a reasonable time although you have not slept through the night in months.

you stare at your phone endlessly some nights and sometimes you hear it ringing even when it isn’t. you hope it will ring when you feel sick or sad. you drive your friends where they need to be and walk with them when they want company and you let the dog out sometimes. you listen to those songs so many times that you don’t even need to hear them anymore. you go to the shop and smell the perfumes and colognes and pretend you don’t know what you’re looking for but you do.

you often wonder if anyone has ever thought of you this hard.

laid in my bed
in the dark
in my room
in my house
in my town
in my state
that is not your state
not your town
not your house
not your room
not your bed
and listened to your tape that i sent
but i remembered the songs
so i could listen to it
and feel like we were listening to it
not in the same place
but maybe at the same time
and the seconds would only be slightly off
almost an echo
that’s like the memory of your voice
ringing in my head
saying
“…”
it does not matter
it is all music
and i listened to those songs songs songs
that are like the echo of your voice voice voice
for the fifth 
sixth 
seventh 
twelfth 
eighteenth 
thirtieth 
fiftieth time like i had never heard them before 
and i hadn’t 
at least not with you 
we didn’t get to 
but i would have liked to 
i would like to
if it wouldn’t be a problem 
then i would take the bus 
i’d ride the train 
i’d fly in a plane 
i would walk your way for a day 
and another day 
and however many days it took me 
to walk through the forests 
and over some mountain range that i may be killed in 
but who cares 
death is only death 
and it’s free 
and it’s what we had always wanted to be 
do not envy me 
i will come back

“we will meet again”