Return to Sender

Before we met
I had already seen you in far too many dreams.

You can't send letters without words
but that's what I did
sleeping on a mattress of pictures and postage stamps
I never had my fighting chance.

Our love notes read like grocery lists
or prescription refills--
take 3 pomegranate seeds
and call me in the morning--
but I could never bring myself to throw them away.

Instead I practiced the careful handwriting of the girl
who would someday meet me in the mirror
who would've traded her whole flock of delicate black words
for my clear blank page.

Because before I knew you I knew that we would fit
like a letter tucked in an envelope
or a needle in the crease of my arm.
For 22 years you dripped life into my veins.

And when you tapped me on the shoulder
and asked to cut in
I gave you the scissors
and told you to do your worst.

I didn't know how much happiness would hurt.
I didn't know it could be possible to miss someone
when he's laying right beside you
keeping you warm and you're running your fingers
through his hair thinking this is the last time
on the 16th of March at 11:37 at night
that I will run my fingers through his hair and
I didn't know that happy endings go so fast.

But I know that we are blessed
because a thing would have to be pretty damn beautiful
for me to be this afraid of losing it.