life moves on, but i hope you move with me.

2/19/10.

well you might still know
that i can't stand white walls,
can't stand for the emptiness to overwhelm me.
that i write notes on blank bedsides
to help get you through the night.
but i know that, instead of erasing them,
you moved out of that room,
made plans to paint over it instead.
because you'd love to bury me,
but you can't bear to erase the memories.

well you might still know
how to make my make-up run,
but make-up comes off, and
besides, I switched to
waterproof mascara anyways.
but i still know how to make you moan,
make your headboard squeak and your floor creak,
or your couch sigh with weight.
not enough to wake the neighbors,
but enough to catch your dad's attention.

well you might know
that i wear scars on the inside of my left arm,
kept hidden but close to my heart;
and that there are a few on my hip,
so that everyone i f**k learns a secret.
but i know you sleep best to rain,
with a pillow over your head.
and your bed is too short so you sleep diagonally,
but you sleep on the right side,
and you always leave room for me on the left.