i am
the sky,
and you,
a sunset.
i know
you are
fleeting,
but i'm
begging you
to stay. nobody
knows how to
appreciate me
without you.

Depression has crept his way into my bones
And made a home
For rent he pays me in tears and self-loathing
(This is the richest I’ve been in months)
Each morning he sips coffee and reads sad poetry like it’s the daily news
He makes a mess of my body
He’s such a terrible guest
And I’m getting tired of his shenanigans
But he has nowhere else to go
Maybe soon, he will pack up a few things and take a vacation to some faraway place
But even if he does, he’ll be back shortly
Because I am his permanent residence,
And he is far too comfortable here
To ever move out.

.
                                                               ­                               the
              If I                                                                       valleys of  
            were                                             between      our snowy souls.
         a builder,         but           bridges               we could meet in those
        I, no longer            build                       clouds,   as    high   as     those
    would hike these                               dreams, that we dare not discuss,
  ice eyed mountains                        upon    the    footsteps    of  ­   Giants.

No one tells you
How boys with pretty eyes
Who smell like smoke
Who taste like stars
Who talk like gold
Are the reason behind
Tear stained sheets
Broken dreams
And silent screams
They forgot to mention
How boys with sad smiles
Who smell like rain
Who taste like pain
Who talk like hope
Are the reason behind
Torn hearts
Sad eyes
And sleepless nights

I let the television play as I write
So I can forget all the static in my brain so I can forget all the buzzing in my ears
So I can forget all the thoughts running over and over.
You’re a rerun I’ve grown tired of but you’re on a channel I can’t get rid of.
I’m stuck and I wonder if I’m stuck on you or-
If maybe I just ran out of batteries.
I think your empty chatter feeds the emptiness more than the blood does in my veins.
You’re the sort of memory etched on my flesh that I turn the television on to forget.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"