it’s crazy how two years ago, we were calling every night just to see if we could see each other because we genuinely missed each other’s presence.

now we only call because we’re alone and filled with lust.

and i’m still waking every morning, but it’s not with you anymore.

i’m no longer waking up to smudged eyeliner and mascara, with an arm wrapped around my stomach, tugging my back closer to a chest as i hear steady breathing

it sounds calming when you say it like that
but if people only knew what happened an hour prior, they’d be calling it chaos and no longer ‘relationship goals’

relationship goals.
that’s what people called us.
but i don’t think endless fighting and make up *** could ever be relationship goals.

we showed everyone what we wanted them
to see, but behind closed doors
we were falling apart

i’m no longer going to sleep every night with ace bandages wrapped around my wrist and your warm breath going down my neck as you tell me it’s gonna be okay

i’m going to sleep with my cats and telling my nana that i’ll see her in the morning because i know for sure i will

i’m waking up with a smile on my face with my own embrace
i’m no longer waking up with heartbreak.

there's a divine boy who is the personification of a greek tragedy.
he has heaven in his eyes and gold for bones.
he finds himself tangled and drunk off my fermented words
his head thrown back in ecstasy and delusional paradises.
a soul so electric, it gave me a shock of clarity
holding his name on my tongue feels hot and sinful
i couldn't contain it

( but i should've know that every tragedy ends the same
there's a reason they're called tragedies
i mistook the hellfire in his eyes for the heavens
and now i'm melting from my wings )

i was too naive to notice the skeletons buried underneath the clothes in your closet and the blood staining your hands

i found all the bones and remains of your victims and i felt the acid in my stomach knowing i was next

i could hear your filthy words that were cursed with dishonesty but they sounded so sincere

they say that it takes trust, communication, and love to make a relationship

so i guess we weren’t anything to begin with.

i look at him and it’s so simple.
i love beautiful things and like to romanticize
fingers pressed to sienna skin that’s stained with vermilion. i sigh. unfolding in the corners of his eyes. “stop!” i’m trying to say. “this is too much!” i feel my whispers release into the ears of silent walls, they echo right down to his core and make him shiver. “i mean it!” i scream before the sudden pause. i cant help but weep.

it’s such a shame
that we think we’re bigger
than our bodies.

red laced button up shirts and long shoulder length golden honey hair
he was carefully handcrafted, and i knew god took his time on this sunkissed angel. i just hope he had me in mind when he made the sun angel’s soulmate.

sun baby can play the harp with my ribcage and it’ll still sound heavenly because anything he touches will never turn to stone; they’ll simply be crystalline.

i wish to be as enchanting as my sun angel, but he doesn’t have any beauty to spare, he’s very greedy. he likes to absorb all the light from the sun, and keep it for himself. baby, i may like the dark but i like you even more.

i feel like i have summer’s guilt chilling my bones, and i can see him in the rear view mirror with his brightly beaming aura

so hold your breath, we’ll be just fine.

your vampire teeth
likes biting on what’s not yours
so you afford a fleeting ******
between a descendant tableaux
and your rosy cheeky maiden who you
****** the life out of

and when you’re done
you rest your head on my shoulder.

worn out faux leather jackets for lean shoulders; tattoos with meaning; tattoos with none; smirking lips glisten whiskey and salt; slender diesel-smudged hands wrapped on a bottle, waist, throat.

wispy smoke veiled sick brown eyes
nicotine, gunpowder, or maybe just you
your fiery breath
in the haunting brisk of autumn

pain and pleasure in semi-darkness
behind locked doors
floral perfume oil with the rotting nostalgia stench and bitter tobacco melting through
one match made in heaven! set the world on fire!

mess in a mess; flesh and soil
my funeral congregation of saint skies
you mumble an urban prayer, throw a gardenia
in the dirt, flicker of the flame. let it burn!

ashes, ashes, she shall fall down.

when the bullet burned my heart
did your senses sizzle with satisfaction?
it won’t be the first time
my body gave you pleasure

and i’m sure it won’t be the last time
when pain excites you

tell me, my love, how did you rip off the warning labels on your body so i could be easily fooled? tell me! tell me!
you're exhaling chemicals and i'm inhaling them
the nicotine that fills your lungs is making them feel like they're going to explode, and you hold onto my shoulder for comfort

you claim you're better on your own
but i slept with you in your car because you were fist fighting demons on highway 90

so, baby boy, tell me how you ripped off those tags that were supposed to warn me about you? tell me how you got your friends to be quiet! tell me! tell me!

you're face to face
with death
and i'm about to shake his hand.

they told me i'd be signing the DNR papers
if i fell in love with you
and i remember putting down my signature

the purple lights fall perfectly on your ****** features as your eyes are closed, you're living in the moment whilst capturing my heart in a jar without even getting close to me, but i definitely feel your hands gripping at my chest and ripping it out.

and starboy, i promise i'm sober. but i could easily get drunk on those liquor lips, let me have a taste.

you're shuffling through girls like songs on your playlist, and i'm hoping i'm the song you stay listening to and don't get tired of. i'm shuffling through emotions like a deck of cards, and i have my poker face on.

but ****, i was never good at placing bets.

i'll curl my eyelashes and put a coat of mascara, gloss my lips with cherry wine, and blush my cheeks with fresh raspberries.

i bet you'd like that, starboy. i heard the sun is a star, and you're the sun of my life. you're the sun, starboy! my bright beaming sun. and i'll risk anything to get burned.

memories do not always soften with time
like these ones i carry on my spine
sometimes, they grow edges, like blades
some memories pierce.
ghosts don’t haunt us; it is us who cannot let them go. (i am telling you now: let go or be dragged)

i stay up nights upon nights with madness filling my ink veins
ugly grief is the price we pay for love
how quick we are to run back to those who hurt us and fight ourselves for their redemption

i saw his soul with my dark eyes
and held it in my bare hands
i loved it, oh, my, i adored it

i still do.

i always end up being amused when people compare themselves to the darkest night and the blinding white like the marble tabletops and the ******* you snort.

i’m more of a mediocre mustard yellow and royal blue, maroon and grey. i can’t live life in extremes even if i ******* tried. i’ve learned that.

so i brew me up some hot nostalgia and let it sink into my pores, and let it create tension in my heartstrings but just not strong enough to rip them apart. it’s almost ****** up if i say it like that. i’m in a constant state of being ripped apart but not quite, i’m always half way there. i’m not worth anything to the point where the people who want to break me, can’t even do it fully.

i’m an almost human, an almost adult, almost desirable, and almost dead.
i’m drowning in the almosts, and it’s snuffing out my spark. it’s almost pathetic. i’m just fixating on everyone that neglected me.

and i’m rambling, i like rambling
i also like christian anthony
but i can’t do him.
at this point
how do you free yourself from the almosts?
or do you let them soak through your decaying skin? tell me.

i wish i was normal.
i wish the chemical imbalance in my brain didn't control every move and thought that i make. it seems as if my disorders are written across my forehead and my colored hair is a sign of my illness. but last time i checked, i thought if i dyed my hair, the chemicals in the dye would seep into my brain and give me a spare of serotonin.

i mean, it works. for a few days at least. then i'm back wishing i was dead and praying for a solution. i never ******* pray unless it's for my own benefit. i should probably find my peace because i thought i had it.

i told myself i wasn't going to write this because i didn't want anyone thinking i'm a lost cause. but maybe i am. maybe there is no hope for me. i'm happy, genuinely happy, don't get me wrong, but i'm numb too. undeniably numb.

i don't care about what people say, i don't care about their feelings. i don't care.

i may be a water sign
but ****
i feel like fire.

i met the love of my life in a dream.
we ate fresh baked bread on a floral bridge
that was over a running azure lake that had all kinds of water creatures below the surface, and i told him he was the one for me. “aime-moi” i said before we were in front of the eiffel tower. he kissed me with his pineapple juice lips and i got drunk off the feeling. his words were almost as enchanting as the scenery and the moment, i told him “estoy enamorado de ti!” and that’s when he disappeared in a cloud of peach hue smoke.

so please, loverboy
if you’re reading
let’s go back

meet me anywhere under the sun!
i’ll be waiting for you in a white sundress.
i’ve been waiting for you to come home.
we can share a strawberry and drink sweet honey iced tea in bottles
we could talk about how you captured the sun in your bare hands and swallowed it whole!
are you waiting for me? are you waiting for me, my love? because i’m waiting for you. it's all i do.

i am alone on my bedroom floor
the carpet burns my calves and the runny nose and eyes
i can feel the moon closer than ever as if it’s waiting for a big kiss
it looked like a crescent keyhole, the other side being a realm of light. being in the dark never felt so unsettling, i forgot how lonely summertime is.

i remember i told you i wanted to live amongst the stars and sleep on the moon
you smiled at me and said
“i would love that too, but won’t you get scared of living in the darkness without seeing the light?”

oh but darling, whom are you to speak? you’ve been surrounded and consumed by darkness all of your life. what’s a little less moonlight going to do to you?

maybe summertime isn’t so lonely.
maybe it’s just me.
maybe it’s always been just me.

filled with rage, laced with shame.
disgust fills my weary bones
this cannot be!

i would die to be myself again
i would die to be myself again, with you.

your lips touch my ear / breath on my skin / making mine hitch /
goosebumps on my body / you whisper love prose / paint me in golden strokes / i will come undone for you / your name is stuck and clogged in my throat / i’m not choking  on you / i’m choking on us / we’re fiery beacons of light / i will come undone for you / i feel fireworks exploding in the pit of my stomach / i wish i could stay here / stay with you forever /
isn’t that part of our purpose? / stay with me / stay with me in the morning light.

i tried telling my best friend at the time that i was hurting and my heart was ready to explode, it felt as if my lungs were giving up and i knew i was going to slit my wrists in the bathtub sooner or later with my clothes still on.

he laughed in my face and told me there was nothing wrong with me. i stood there in silence, trying to accept that my own best friend didn't believe me when i said i was falling apart. i cried myself to sleep that night and woke up in my own saliva, it was disgusting.

my best friend told me he loved me to death and would do anything to protect me. he tried kissing me one night and things haven't been the same since. he makes me want to wrap myself up in barbed wire and drop myself off a high cliff, falling hard onto the ground.
but if i tell him that
he'll say
i'm
just
fine.

i still have the date of the day we met
and the date of when i told you i loved you imprinted in my mind

i still feel your lips on my body
and i still hear you telling me that
we’ll go through life together

and darling, i’m sorry i made things end too soon. and i’m sorry that i lied when i said i wouldn’t hurt you.

apologies can’t fix our love
but it can fix our closure

and i may be holding onto false hope
but you were clinging onto it

i’m not everything you wanted me to be
and i won’t pray for sanity, so baby, here’s a toast.

some things are better left alone.

if one day your
liquor washed mouth
would be as generous and kind
as my fingertips,
my heart would not find
salvation in other bodies that aren’t yours

my tongue and lips are too forgiving
of you and you do not deserve it

so drink up, liquor mouth
that’s all you ever do

there was salvation in his smile.
an undeniable warm feeling
that would trickle in your crimson veins
like cold tears on radiant burning cheeks.

he looked like one of those crafty handcrafted
statues in those expensive-looking art museums. you can’t help but admire him and his scenery. god could return on earth in a
mortal body, but all i will see is my apollo.

golden honey hair and fresh water hazel eyes— eyes that could bring you to your knees in one simple glare

sun kissed bronze skin with rose and sword tattoos, my oh my, he’s blessed with michelangelo’s paintbrush! he’s a painting on god’s favorite art wall!

all i see is him.
all i see is art.

you
love
setting
things
on
fire
when
there
is
nothing
to
break


so
you
set
yourself
ablazed
to
forget
me
in
the
morning.

he is the scrape of knees and knives
the clawing of fingernails on marble columned spines with the bones breaking down into dust

he is the scaring of a fresh wound that i inflict on myself so i can feel something and he is the stinging tears i cry, holding cyanide underneath a serpentine tongue.

he is the rawness in my chest and throat
from screaming for him to leave me be

but he brings me love
and dilutes my blood
with salt water

we loved each other so violently and relentlessly
we danced with each other’s demons
and kissed each other’s scars

we were so utterly consumed by each other
that we both forgot we were in hell.

the neighbourhood is playing in the background and you’re downing a bottle of liquor while i sit on the cold wooden floor with my knees to my chest

you were on your third bottle and i kept watching them pile up
you loved to ruin your body because you said it made you feel as if you had control.
you wanted control.

i think that’s why you always held my hand.
not because you loved me and wanted to
but because you felt as if you had to
in order to keep me in line

i watched you put another pill on your tongue
as your head went back.
i can’t stand the sight of you sometimes
and it makes me want to down that same bottle of liquor to ease my bitterness towards you

but if i did that
you’d call me a ******* alcoholic again.

my mother always warned me about drugs.

she always warned me what they could do and how they possibly could end your life

but mama never warned me about the one that had dark brown eyes and a heartbeat.

i don't need your help. my hands are not the ones covered in crimson. yes, they're shaking, but that's because you jabbed the knife in my guts repeatedly until i could no longer process my thoughts and all i can feel was the numbing pain. it didn't hurt, only when you pierced the flesh again and again, but it didn't hurt. you threw my phone across the room and i'm on the other side, i can't call an ambulance and my blood is soaking my shirt and carpet.

all i can hear is you saying that i'm in the wrong and that i'm the one with the knife.

ouch! that hurts, your fingernails are digging in my temples and you're trying to scream hateful verses in my ears as if they were prayers. and before i knew it, i bled out on the living room floor.

i know you’re dead inside
but
you make me feel alive.

i learned that love bites
don’t always mean
‘i love you.’

you were scabbed with the bitter breath and air of december's tragedy, and perhaps it's truly better than it sounds but i can never tell. i never lived my life in violent indigos.

the sun seeps through your window in such a way your dark night eyes look like a desirable honey that drips from a bee's hive

your lips are pulled tight because your tongue is filled with secrets that are ready to spill out in the open like cream pouring into coffee. 

you never tell me about the foreign chapped lips against your skin, but i remember they made you feel what i couldn't give you.

you cut my heart out with a butter knife because your tongue isn't as sharp as you would like it to be. you place it on a silver platter and say bon appetit!

i hope for you my darling, my heart tastes like asphalt and red wine, because that's what's fit for dying gods.

let me write you love notes
i think about how i’ll carve them into the flesh of your cheeks, maybe with a smile
because if you’d just let me tell you about the way it feels when i see you come alive in the darkness, eyes blazed, love taking over your sun lit soul. we could dance on the mattress of the hotel bed while listening to nirvana and i can tell you how about the cards and how they lead me to you. i like your face, it’s quite enchanting. i think i saw it in a dream once.

you carved constellations into my wrist
and painted my body with the blood
i thought it was beautiful
but i should’ve known that eventually
i would bleed out

you will not go on like this into the night!
i will rip the fascination and souls out of the moonlight; romanticize the way you reach your hand into the dark like the way you philosophize putting your hands onto a lover who cannot fathom between a tragedy and a fairytale.

he smelt like cologne and regret
but tasted like cherries and cream
every time we kissed, i had a new memory

our first kiss.
eager lips and touching before he got me into bed, and took what was mine. i woke up with aching between my thighs as he told me he loved me while i laid there wrapped in silk.

our third kiss.
it was in a tour bus. everyone was loud, but i could still hear my heartbeat. his breath was shaky and i felt it on my lips before he pressed his on them. his brothers and friends cheered us on.

our eighth kiss.
this is where things got tricky. we didn’t kiss to love anymore, we kissed for lust. he stopped kissing me as an act of care and affection, but started as a way to make me beg for his touch. he knew how to get me eager and ready for him, and he took advantage.

our last kiss.
it was rainy, and i was sobbing as he screamed things that were aching my heart. he was walking out the door when i grabbed him and gave him a final kiss. that’s when i tasted the cigarette ash and liquor. something that tasted bitter.

he no longer tastes
like cherries and cream.

he was always a moment too big for me, everyone knew that. he was magnetic and electric, and my heart and entire being couldn't contain such a man as magnificent as him.

he was always torn with choosing me and his dreams, but i guess he finally had enough and decided to burn the bridge that connected us to each other.

sometimes i still find the ashes of the bridge's remains on my shoes and clothes from when i tried to get to him. i'm just speaking in metaphors, but no matter how many of them i use, they will never show you how miserable i truly am.

remington leith is and will always
be the bittersweet death of me.

am i all that you ever wanted? or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten? it seems i’m talking to an automatic voice message and listening to these dial tones while i pray for you to pick up the phone, but you’re too busy filling your lungs with nicotine while a girl gives you head

you’re so pathetic, preying on innocent girls like it’s a bloodsport. you have skeletons in your closet, but you swear they don’t belong to you.

you hide your feelings like a corpse you want to get rid of, but baby, the stain remains.

talk to me nice, darling. say those sweet words and i’ll swoon and get into your bed again, before you leave me bare in a hotel room and i have to call my mom again at 4am

endless vicious cycles of lust and hopeless wishes, i learned to accept the fact that you will never ******* change no matter how many times you say you will

and oh, how the tables have turned

you’re the one listening to those **** dial tones now.

and this is when i learned being alone is safer than being with you
your knuckles are bruised and wrapped in ace bandages
you told me you just had a bad night and it'll all be fine in the morning

but the bad nights just kept coming
the ace bandages never unwrapped from
your hand but you swore the light at the end of the tunnel was getting closer and closer

i don't think your dollars held together by a rubber band and smooth lies are going to save you this time

you can't keep avoiding the problem and expect it to be fixed and solved by itself
it doesn't work that way

once something goes wrong, you immediately flee and never look back
until you do and the problem comes back
but you're too much of a coward with too much pride that you can't even see it in front of you anymore

i hope my voice rings loudly in your ears telling you that you need to get your **** together and stop living in a make believe world

one day you will realize that not everyone is going to fall down on their knees for you

and it'll be a huge wake up call.

there was a warrant for my arrest not too long ago

it was all over the news, and i couldn't help but laugh. why would they put that out? my body standing amongst the blood-stained carpet. they say i'm a murderer.

body found, they found it still in it's clothes in the bathtub but they could still see the mutilation. the place looked horrendous. i knew there was only just a matter of time.

it seemed like those crime series where each episode gets them closer to the killer, but with the way these scenes are being handled, they can't find dna on the body.

they can't find the ****** weapon. all that's there is the trail of blood from the carpet to the bathtub from the victim. out of all places, why did they choose the bathtub? they could've gotten help.

you see, you ask yourself these things because it's ******* logic. i asked myself these things too before my head went under the water.

i don't need anyone
i like to tell myself i don't because
if i'm being honest with you
(usually i'm not)
i rely on people more than i should.

your golden hair strands are covering your
face as your chain dangles off your neck
it makes me want to give the world to you
and give you this devotion and adoration
i have that's suffocating me.

do you hear my heart thumping rapidly
in my ribcage?
will you still kiss me if my lips tasted like
asphalt and red wine?
my last lover was a dying god and it was fitting
but you're the reincarnation of apollo and you need
more of a ravishing taste.

i never been touched by a god
but i had my body ruined by a dying one
will you touch me and make me whole again?

please talk to me!
i don't like being alone
i hate being alone
i don't like it
i need you.

i draw planets on my wrist
outlined with the ink of a sharpie
my fingers are numb when i put my nails to my teeth; i smile anyway.

we tumble onto couches and beds
i sing you a song about ghosts and dancing
staring up at your ceiling and talking about
tomorrow’s destruction

my lips are tinted red from you biting down on them and my lips are glossed with tangerine ***** (your voice is murmured as you tell me you love me while i play with the lighter. i tell you the truth —i’m suffocating— you tell me to go to sleep)

your hands twist my skin
into hearts and stars
(we call it on the bottle, if it lands on you, i’m
yours. on me? i’m out the door.)

self destruction is the new mouth watering fantasy, we make ourselves bleed just to feel something.

(but baby, i’m so bored with all of this.
red wine spills onto my white tee shirt
and i hate the way it stains
but i still drink with you anyway)

your lips and guitar must be lonely tonight
while you drive to the gas station to buy ***** to drown yourself in, the bruises on your knuckles aching while i lay in bed listening to track number five on the mixtape you made me.

( and we still make ourselves bleed
but this time it’s for fun )

choke down the cherry cola cough drops into your throat with diluted acid from the saturn’s rings she adorned you with. they told her she had venus’ kiss in her irises, and you have the cosmos running through your moon dust veins.

let the calories in the stardust graze your melted coarse organs as you choke on your fester words.

she spun you into the withering web of burning rose petals and expired prescriptions.

oh god, how you thought you were the hurricane but look at how she made your insides into a liquid mess and fed them to your demons.

you have winter in your veins
and i know at point i lived for the glacial temperatures.

i lived for the ice covering my bones
and you filling my body up to the brim with your filthy mistakes and careless words. how much do i have to pay you to hear you say those three little words again?

i keep replaying the vhs tape to our movie even though i always know how it ends.
i know how it ends, yet i watch it like a deer watches the headlights because i long for the familiarity that was once us, even though it makes me want to purge my guts out until my throat is strained and scratched.

i got drunk off your finger-crossed promises that the light at the end of the tunnel was right ahead and we needed to keep our head up. i sipped from your cup of honeyed words as if your delusional paradise could quench my thirst.

i’m slowly breaking down and distinguishing the pronunciations of safety and comfort, and they no longer sound like your name. they don’t sound like your name at all.

all you ever did was visit. you never stayed. my heart and ribcage was a home to you inconsistently inhabited whenever you feel alone and weak. but when the time came to renew the lease, you left me to sit fully furnished with your bad intentions; all the weight of your baggage that you were tired of carrying on your back was unloaded onto me. i reached my full capacity a long time ago, but you were blind to see that i was overflowing.

i would rip my lungs out if it meant it would quiet my screams that cry for you

i bite my tongue because i know my words never meant anything to you.

when i walked away from you, i left behind a universe filled ecstasy and unwanted come downs.

and i always tried to make you sure you were safe and had something to hold onto so you wouldn’t go flying away

but i guess you loved being high more than the firm grounding i put you on time and time again.

we found comfort in the chaos
but i’m no longer your lovebird
i’m ready to be set free from my cage for good.

i hope you never find my poetry
because then you’ll realize why i left
you.

darling, i know i claimed that i moved on
but you gratified on the walls in my mind
like it was the fourth of july

you said you trusted me
and said you’d catch me if i fell

and i know i never said i’d catch you
but darling, i’d hold the pain of your world
on my back so i could see you smile

i know you wouldn’t believe me and half
the things i say if you were to read these right now

but darling, my love for you is still as strong
and don’t tell me you moved on
because i don’t wanna know.

i'd rather count the freckles on your back and trace the birthmark on your chest than think of the ways you could possibly hurt me

i've lived my life in high hopes and expectations only to be hit with the strong and devastating reality

your hands on my hips as we swayed to the neighbourhood i love you track number four on your bluetooth speakers and your lips traced patterns on the skin of my neck and i swore the lust i felt was love

your eyes said one thing, but your body movements said another

your eyes said they were hungry
starving
they were longing for something more than just a one time feast

but your hands were so delicate with my body
that it felt as if i was porcelain

you said could tame the beast within you, but you didn't know for how long

and it didn't take long before you devoured me.