One: Do not think of the forests that hold your eyes. I cannot allow myself to become engulfed in the green that manipulates me. Like the Garden of Eden, they are beautiful beyond words that can do them justice; venture deeper and find temptation. Do not think of the forests that hold your eyes.

Two: Cry. Cry every night. I must allow my body to water the weeds that have grown into the soil that has settled in my lungs. If I cry, if I water these weeds, they will one day become overgrown and entangle my throat, twisting tighter and tighter until my last breath whispers your name.

Three: Do not dream of your touch. Do not think of the lucky ones brushing against your side or shaking your hand. Grieve for them because they do not feel the electricity that courses through your veins, the shock that used to be transferred into mine. Do not think about the possibility of someone else’s touch complimenting yours

Four: Sing about you. There were days after you left that I could not find my voice, but I cannot let my melodies travel with you – they’re mine. Sing our song, sing sad songs, sing songs you hated to hear me sing. Sing loud enough so that you may hear me miles away

Five: Do not allow others to see how ghostly I have become. Do not allow them to see there is another part of me left, but that part struggles to live without you everyday. Paint a mask with a tattooed smile and sew it into my stone cold cringe.

Six: Be as a broken light bulb. Flicker, on and off, on and off, on and off. When the light becomes too bright it is okay to take the medication for complete darkness. It is okay to feel my limbs get heavier, and listen to my sentences become less coherent, and see the light fade away.

Seven: Do not imagine you in bed with me. Do not pretend to feel your hands running down my body or your muscles pulsing against my skin or your breath on the back of my neck. Do not think of your legs pretzeled with mine or your eyelashes twitching as you sleep or your heart beating in sync with mine. Do not remember what its like to be one with you, or feel so safe and secure as we gently sail to cloud 9, or how your lips are the match that set mine on fire, or how together, you said we were the only people in the world and no matter what, you said nothing would come between us. Do not imagine you here with me.

Eight: Force a smile when you tell me about the other girls. Truth be told, I don’t want you to be miserable, I just want you to be happy, with me.

Nine: When people ask me why my teeth chatter, tell them it is because I am cold. Do not let them in on the real secret; don’t tell them its because I live in a constant state of anxiety and loneliness. Besides, my body has been permanently cold since you left anyways.

Ten: Do not write poems about you. Do not bring up all my feelings through word or voice, because that can only lead to one thing – missing you.