Sail back down the moon
left by the door of dust caked feet
you claim to be your own.
Paint back the days spent flipping scales,
replace the compass drenched in blood
in the center of my living room.
The king and pawn don't look so different
if you squint you eyes.
Tell me again, slower this time
how we coexist as moths and light.
Peculiar you'd say, how unequal it seems.
Seventeen years and not a sense
of the universe within each drop
on flesh as thin as the umbrella above your head.
Everyone's a soldier
marching on the shoulder
of every other soldier.
Carry me back on the back that didn't break
when night swallowed its stomach.
I may be a moth by your side
but the light didn't leave
when it had the chance.

Before I could connect the dots
They became like stars
And sat on your cheeks
Painting the universe with scars.
Taking me to a place
Where rain drops elate
And sun dries the fields
Where the great trees yield
Seeds of yesterday's blessings.
Do you know knuckles tighten
Tears swell and bloom,
And vessels seem to cringe
When your name,
Like a knife
Is thrown across the room.
I hate the sour taste of resent on my tongue,
And the emptiness of words
Like the songs never sung.
You, like a cloud, hang too low
Like last night when they pried
So I swallowed the tears to let it go,
Heavy with regret.
Each one of my bones has your initials etched
And probably my forehead too
Because everyone seems to draw a line between me and you
Thicker then it ever grew on your side of the fence.
The truth behind us is as simple as flames,
One always burns faster, and nothing's to blame
But it's 5 pm and my hands have moved on
To someone else's back
And you may hold her hair back for a moment on your bed
But she will never understand the
Mountains in your mind
Or try to climb to sunrise and understand the lies
Like I did one Sunday morning.
I hope she never loves you
Because you deserve nothing more then the sting of the sea you refuse to walk along with me.

Wake up already.
I've been staring at the scratch on your neck since half past three.
You look strangely similar
To the sidewalk I've walked a million times before
But you're not cracked
Or rotted like my eye sockets.
If everybody knew why windshield wipers
Hide what keeps us writing love letters to boys we'll never meet,
Even weeds would look good in a garden.
The cold rusted my knee caps
And staining the carpet red
But it was worth it to hold your hand,
for a minute and 37 seconds.
There's a vase of flowers by the door
From a lover who didn't make the cut.
A cut on your shoulder
Leaves the fire burning blue.
Paper clips lined the ceiling
Of the California oak
By the edge of his bed.
Do it for yourself,
I swear to the moon I'll be grateful
No matter how long the line to heaven
Wraps around my wrists.
Under the sand trapped in your toes
I learned to choke on something other then the water
Bubbling my lungs to cobalt.
I'll flick every switch and touch you forever
If you teach me to love you back.
And if the desert could yell
As loud as my eyes
*You'd feel it too.

You can't break a heart that isn't healed from the last set of eyes.
A reminder from the moon to the stars
It's never too late for something beautiful
To fall from the sky
Into the palm of your hands.
There is a place across a river
Where the East meets what's west,
And all the children wait with bandages for cut wrists to heal in the sun before it sets.
I have a fear of setting in stone
Because you can only stare at the sun for so long
Before beauty and light causes tears.
Nothing beautiful,
Like an angel in the snow
Remains forever,
And I'm stuck in time
Because there's something going around the room
That I've avoided well so far
But a bird can't fly forever and neither can my heart
I have to fall at some point
Into someone one else's sun.

Winters back to remind me I loved you
In every patch of ice
Summers back to swap the tide
Of my eyes
And change reflection to deception in the sea that turned our bodies to trees
Floating as simply as regret on the tip of a tongue too timid to change its mind
I don't mind, I swear.
Tell me again how the flowers bloomed before August
And have since withered to stone
But eighty seven rib cages cant form a single heart
Each piece of glass slammed on your skull remains in my top drawer
Just in case I decide to piece you back together
And form from red a sky of grey
The birch on the tree left stomachs in knots so
Why not
change the song on the radio again,
Just in case the next one doesn't remind me of you
But it seems to haunt shoulders stroking my neck as softly as birds released from the cage of my shoulder blades
You live in cartoon houses
Beside plastic covered floors
And shield leaves with newspaper
Just to fill the space
between me and you.
There is a blood stain on my floor I can't seem to scrape
And your shirt is in my closet
Beside the window shattered to grain as small as bone
Somewhere between a metal and a base I found your fingertips tapping my leg
But you took it with you when you left
And now I can't walk to the window and watch you cry every Tuesday.
The rope burns you splintered
On the corners of my eyes reminded
I should have known you didn't mean it
When grass formed in the cracks of your lips because
All things go
Except the smell of sweat on my bed,
tears like dew on the petals of my cheeks
And the sea I gave my soul to.
Salt remains to evporate eventually
Along with thoughts of you so
I stayed up debating if the sky was simply a piece of black paper freckled silver
And if you ever felt the grass between your toes
But all things fade with sunrise.

97 days
12 grams
4 cigarettes
18 coffees,
and I still can't recall
the color of your spine.

I didn't come here to cry,
but you're in every crack on this street
making it harder then before.
We invented the winter
to fill my mouth with clouds
and watch trees sprout from bare branches.
I have a book full of poems,
34 about you;
empty words of a cluttered mind.
Everything worth saying
is trapped on the corners of your lips
below the sun of east Portugal
by the bay that burned your feet.
I watched a moth land on your eye lid;
you hardly even flinched.
The sewing machine in the sky
that held us close can't click forever,
neither can the clock on the mantle
and I fear we are running out of time to say
I'm sorry
and take back each rock we threw
before we forget each others faces.
Remember
the things we smoked,
and the love we made one Tuesday.
The feelings we shared as coldly
as the hands we never grasped.
You slid my bones from cellophane skin,
and threw them back to the shore,
just please give me back to Ohio
when October knocks on the brick between my veins.
Remember my eyes?
You took them on your back when you left,
and haven't seen them since.
I want to press  my cheek against your chest,
feel you breathing like so many times before.
If I could have one wish
I would run as far as it took to look into your eyes
just one last time,
and hope to god you notice.