All That You Can Do

Perhaps loneliness is simply going to be the way it will always be.

It has been exactly six months since Lovely kissed my shattered forehead on his front steps, and I walked away towards my side of the blue.

I am almost the age where they will let me buy my fathers poison.

I have known that which drove me to myself just shy of 8 years now.

And, though it will never be the last time I say it,

I don't know if I feel it anymore.

I think of Lovely and try to pull up every glance (s)he ever gave me, and I feel a stronger pull towards what exists in my life currently, as porous as that is. I think that with the events that moved the earth out from under me, I am tired of ghosts.

I'm tired of having too much to say to nothing at all.

And yet the loneliness stays. I wake up in the mornings sometimes and think I can hear someone else's chest rise and fall. Then I realize its just the cold fall air beating at the windowpane.

I suppose we do what we have to do.

I suppose that's all that you can do.