Chasing What Was Left Of You

i never stopped running after you.

not when the air mattress went flat

and the van smelled like rain and smoke,

not when i could hear the tremor in your voice

and knew you were lying again.

i thought if i loved hard enough

i could drag you out of it

that if i stayed close

it would take me first.

you kept slipping through my hands,

looking like bones with all promises.

i kept calling your name

like it was the only prayer i had left.

maybe that’s what the hunt really was,

not chasing you,

but chasing the moment

where you’d finally stop running too.