I woke up drunk into the afternoon, heard the earths heart beat, listened to it swoon. Thought it a fool, for falling for the moon. But here I am, loving you.

Ever tasted death ?
the ethereal mist of a new dawn,
swirling around your soul,
like a serpent made of tears

Give me some tincture,
save me from this house of fire,
eaten alive by all thats truth,
corked in a bottle filled with lies.

Poetry was all she talked about
and Poetry was all she was.

Still alive and still here,
We're all just waiting for the pain to go away.
We want to be able to breathe past
The lumps in our throats
Or on our brains
Or in our hearts,
But we are stuck in a whirling inferno
Of triggering our own pain
And dying from it.

rainless morning, awoken by comforting delicate taps on my window
velvet curtains lifted and fragile opalescent feathers revealed
the hummingbird sings songs for you
and my heart flutters in time with the tune

There was an odd shift in the air that morning when you called me so early.
I couldn't tell if it was sadness or defeat or even a slight twang of happiness in your soft voice.
And I couldn't quite make out the words you were saying as you spoke so fast and yet so dreamily.

I heard you say you were sorry. I heard you say you loved me. I heard you say it was time.
And then I heard the phone go silent.

I ran.
I ran through the ice and the winter breeze.
I walked.
I walked up the drive way into the open door.
I sat.
I sat down next to your already cold body.
And I cried.
I cried because "you" were me and I was gone... So what else could I do but cry?

Do you know what suicide makes you think about?
It made me wonder if the pain could have gone away.
It made me wonder why that day was the day.
It made me wonder what inside me got so hard I couldn't face another single day living in this toxic world.

I love you.
I miss you.
I'm so sorry.