you felt like music in my bones 
then suddenly you changed keys 
i was out of tune 
and we forgot the words
it's four o'clock on monday morning
and all that's left
is the memory of your head
on the pillow next to mine
it was here
like this
that we used to listen
to all my favorite records
but I can't now
because when the needle hits the vinyl
i start thinking of you
it's the early hours of the day
when the streaks of morning light
break across the clouds
that I realize
i'm not a morning person
i'm a mourning person

[holyoak]

I make promises that are empty
to fill the hole
where my heart should be.
Sometimes I feel like I'm living a lie
and the only one being fooled is me.
I try and ignore what I know,
yet I know what I hide
and I hide it in the snow.
While white on the outside
only I know my mind.

The truth is I'm still
doubting if it's mine.

[ARH]

That's what you called it-
with that lovely little smirk on your face.
I should have know then the conversation was not
headed in the right direction.
The way you "classified" our night of cuddles and laughter-
as a one night stand.
I thought we were working things out-
that you were going to take a chance.
I should have known you were too much of a calculated person for that.
The risk was too great.

they do what they say
and they pick at all two
hundred and six plus bones
until I am left with no poles
to stand firm upon.
No limbs. No cartlidge.
they do what they say and
they alienate me into
a spineless coward.

i made staircases out of these bones
too young and too fast, the same way
you came and the same way you left.
in those days these lungs were oceans;
this ribcage was sinking. i only wanted
to let the waves wash over, to forget you,
to dissolve me.

we made homes in stairwells when
the light still leaked through the leaves,
when it still spilt orange over faded green.
the times when i was your sky and you
electric blue, the times the strawberries
seeped into your skin; how the cuts
on your fingers made me want to heal
you when i could only
love you more.

but maybe even after all these years
your fingerprints are still etched into me;
i will always carry your hands
in my own.

(A.H.Z)