cosmic matter

it’s really
really
scary
knowing that
you are not
really part of
my life but
at the same time
you are.
it’s really
really
scary
remembering that
you are
(you were?)
something that i had
some sort of grasp on.
not in the way that
we were
something
not in the way that
we ever could have been
something
just in the way that
you were there
you gave a shit
(sometimes)
and you were
tangible
real
not some poetic device
that doesn’t ever
really
leave.
it’s really
really
scary
keeping with me
the fact that
i loved you
the fact that
i loved someone
the fact that
i found what i was
looking for
but it didn’t find me.
not that you did
anything
wrong.
it’s a fault of mine that
sometimes
i don’t recognize that
people like you
as in you
are capable of doing
things
wrong.
i’m seventeen and
i really
really
thought that
i’d have someone
by now.
but no.
i don’t.
i have other things.
i have pain and
i have heartbreak and
i have that nagging reminder that
you were real
you were real and
maybe that was it.
maybe you were it.
because you fall in
love once
and you don’t exactly
come out of it unscathed or
hopeful or
anything like that.
you don’t watch the
sun rise
the next day
and think about all the
cosmic matter that it
burned away.
if anything
if you think anything
at all
because sometimes you
don’t do that
so much anymore
if anything
if you think anything
it’s that the
sunrise
would be really
really
nice to watch
if you had someone
watching it
next to you.
and maybe
(if you squint)
(because i’m trying to be
poetic here
and what i love
about that
is being poetic
isn’t always the same
as being right)
but maybe
the cosmic matter
doesn’t
burn up
maybe
those fragments
of planets that never were
those slivers
of sparkling stardust
and splinters
of suffering stars
(i’m trying to sound pretty here)
(you’re so fucking pretty)
maybe they just become
part of the sun
part of the burning
falling
glistening tears
that slide
every so often
down my cheeks
and land on my laptop
wouldn’t it be funny if
wouldn’t it be cute if
wouldn’t it be crushing if
they fell on the
letters of your name?
like a fucking
ouija board?
because all you are to me
is a ghost and oh
oh god what if that were true?