Bugs

I ran into the curb today,

it jolted me like a shock from an electrical socket.

If I'm being honest, that was the third time

this week

and if I'm being even more honest,

I was thinking of you

every time,

I made a list of things I might say to you

if I had the luxury of being irrational,

an indulgence I'm not sure I'll ever partake in,

at least not further than I already have

but if I were it would include statements like,

"Being next to you is like smoking a cigarette,

only it doesn't make me sick."

And "You know I dreamed about you for 24 years before I saw you,"

And "Hey do you wanna just hang out until we both die?"

These statements feel like bullets,

and I load them onto paper 

hoping that one day I won't get too drunk

and decide to play Russian roulette, 

and I know you feel me pointing this gun 

directly at you,

I swear I'm not trying to,

Or maybe I am 

hoping to keep you away with words like,

"I bought sugar for coffee intensely hoping you'd be around to use it,"

and,

"Boy, your eyes have all the beauty of a dark cherry wood floor with the sun shining on it,"

or,

"Now that you've been here, your absence holds weight,

it has matter,

it is taking up space next to me," 

and as much as I want to stop 

popping these bullets into this empty chamber,

it is natural,

it is breathing, eating, and dreaming,

it is the insects and the fireflies that I sit down with in the evening,

I remember the way you said "bye bugs!,"

adorable, really,

and given the amount of time I spend with the spiders,

maybe I am one.