you were my first midnight kiss
drunk and laughing
spilling like bubbly over and over into your arms
your lips a white froth of sweets
this was the fairy tale hour,
so to speak
but i'm no cinderella
running away
with glass in my heart that aches.
no i was done with fragility;
i'm yours, rust and bolts and ticks and all
you were my first midnight kiss,
and although it did not awaken me from a century of slumber
or turn my fins into human legs
i could feel a different magic
tingling upon the cupid's bow of my lips

the gardens weep
in the moonlight
because she has gone away.
a pale sliver of a finger
waivers in a pond reflection.
a specter-
  the stars have become
pearl spilled tears
and the roses tremble in dew
because of the absence,
her absence-
felt so wholly.
the world fades quietly
with her white body
under ground
...
although that is where she lay
(she has gone away)

I tried not to fall in love with Mila for she was broke
She who hid her crooked honest smile
Holding her coffee every morning
I said hi, she just never noticed I was the one that cared
Her eyes screamed 'help me'
Help me from myself
But no one could ever understand
She who sat alone in the mornings with her writing pad
She who walked alone staring at objects not eyes
I smiled at her everyday, she never looked up
She who probably cried every night
Everyday day
All the time
..
One day Mila walked towards me
I sighed in disbelief
She stared at me with her big brown eyes and said 'Keep this for me'
She handed me her writing pad
She walked away soon
I waited till the next morning
She never came.
She with her absence
She with her obscure self
She with her unveiling silence
All she needed was help
..
I fell in love with Mila
A love that was spurred from afar
For it was no possession
Admiration that was all
She who I could've helped
She who was so beautiful
She who understood how much life was doomed
She who's soul didn't belong here
..
Mila killed herself, for this was not her place, she went to try another universe
I'll be joining her there.

At least let me be
the girl who doodles on her arm
because she's scared to get a real tattoo,
and the girl whose freckles bloom
like little daisies on her cheeks
to match her middle name,
the girl who leans out the window of the car,
to feel the wind kiss her face, her soul,
and the girl who sneaks out early
to write poetry in a French town,
who wears silver rings, not gold,
and sometimes laughs too much,
or too little, because,
this is also the girl
who breaks her own heart too often
because she believes that it's better
to regret what you've said
than what you haven't,
let me be her, because,
without her, I only exist.

It's Saturday
And I feel lonely
I drink some coffee
And I feel lonely
I do the laundry
And I feel lonely
I ride my bike
And I feel lonely
I buy some groceries
And I feel lonely
I watch TV
And I feel lonely
I smoke a pack
And I feel lonely
I down a bottle
And I feel lonely
I think of you
And I feel lonely
I call you up
And I feel lonely
The doorbell rings
And I feel lonely

I see you
You come in
I have you
You leave

And I feel nothing

Two steps forward
one step back.
Always a' pacing,
a ratta-tat-tat
on the beat of my heart
or the beat of the drums.
Why won't you acknowledge
the people we've become?