Why can't life be this?
I asked my wife as
we sat underneath our
white polyester blanket,
snowflakes gently striking
the pavement and our
gray-blue mailbox outside.

Why can't every day be Saturday
when you and I awake to
each other's smiles?
We would hold each other
and be thankful that we
have nowhere to be
this quiet afternoon.

We would find purpose
in cleaning the laundry,
in washing the floors,
and we wouldn't need to worry
about any bills or those
leftover to-do lists waiting
at work from the week before.

I'd like to imagine this
is what Heaven is like,
no worries, or cares, or toil;
just relaxing each day
with a chestnut and clove candle
warming our senses
as we sit in silent contentment.

The pain of life
is a contraction
of a new season
ready to be born.
The joy of life
will soon be laying
skin-to-skin
upon your chest.
There is hope in life's
deepest suffering.

I feel that I have failed
To do the one thing I was designed to do

To pour my heart into the empty spaces in your chest
To replace the raging chaos in your mind with the bright light that leaks from my lips
To give you a sense of belonging when the world denies you

I feel that I have failed
To do the one thing I was designed to do

To hold you so tightly that your broken pieces would mold back into one
To put your insecurities to sleep inside of my bones
To dry your tears with my hands that will soak up every last one of your fears

I feel that I have failed
To do the one thing I was designed to do

I feel that I have failed
Failed to save you

At some point I’ll
Have to come to terms with this reality

At some point I’ll
Need to make peace with your absence

At some point I’ll
Turn around and find myself breathing-

That’s when I can say I made it;
When I can breathe and walk and feel
Without you

I’m there now
              I think
Just don’t want to admit it,
For fear that acceptance
Of your absence
Is release
Of potential
And the coming
Of the inevitable
The end

I tore a page out of my notebook and I burned it.
I tore another page out and I burned that too.
I ripped out every single page and burned each one.
But it wasn't enough.

So I tore the pictures from my wall and watched the faces melt away.
But I could still feel the need for destruction in the pit of my stomach.

So I put a joint to my lips and watched the smoke escape from my mouth.
But not even that could soothe my pain.

So I ran.
And I ran.
And I ran.
And as I ran I set fire to all the trees and bushes.
And as I sat there in the chaos I had caused I realised,
Nothing could burn the memory of you out of my brain.

I don't want you to be just another body in my body count.
Just another set of lips that placed longing upon my finger tips.

I don't want you to be just another lesson that taught me that there's more colors in the rainbow than the green and blue I have been accustomed to.
Just another set of eyes that have turned all other colors into a boring tv show.

I don't want you to be just another could have been, should have been, would have been.
Just another sorry excuse for how scared I've always been.

I don't want you to be just another liking.
Just another failed attempt at loving.

I don't want you to be just another name.
Just another ***** up and I'm the only one to blame.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how I order coffee now just to be reminded of your eyes.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how your dimples make me melt into a puddle as you smile.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how although you're lanky and your height is awkward, you still fit perfectly with me.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how when you grip my hair in your hands as you kiss me it makes my body want more.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how you're different from every other one I've ever been with, different from every other I've ever run away from.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how gentle you were when you touched me, when you held me, when you looked at me.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about the way you looked at me, the way you looked at me as if love could exist, as if love does exist.

I want to write about you.
I want to write about how since I lost you this is the only way I can still have you.

Memories of you
Cannot fill these empty arms
Pride can't keep me warm

The urge to pick up the blade has become stronger
All my strength is drained and my feelings hit me harder

Pushing em away because I told you I was better
Showing you a different face, **** it's just the weather

A different time, a different cloud
A different daydream to shut out

What else am I supposed to say
Been lying since the very first day

Cut off all my ties
No one notices the lost lines

Time to disappear
I'm sorry for the last time