as everything
freezes over and dies
a solitary gust of smoke
escapes my mouth
into frigid air and
I feel I am finally alive

and “never again” is beginning to sink in
i’ve always been so persistent, stubborn
i just cannot imagine you being temporary

your words that night pierced
-i didn’t want to remember you that way
desperate for closure
i left a big space for you, pages upon pages

and now i’m clicking my pen, starving for words
i rip out our final page, and flip back 3 pages

we were just the boy and ******* a balcony
flicking our cigarettes, ashes dancing in the august air

things were so simple back then,
on page one hundred and ten

i cannot let it go,
it’s written in pen

put your hands on me, nice cold and arrogant
be with me until time declares us ignorant
of the majestic sun's son's daughters
created in a circle of death,
and life
everythinginbetweenyouandI

the "and" between
soothes underneath you
beds cool and warm
sheets ripped up
pillows destroyed

i can get no sleep when i want to
i'm up all night putting myself
into what ideal
you've created

if i understand
can you understand
that i can be patient if you can be my patient
i'll relieve your tension with my medicine
nice and warm

untilthenithoughtitwasjustaline
no decision has a meaning
i can be your patient too
soothe me until I can get rid of my sickness
insanity,
whatever

i've been annihilated but endless critiques
and praises
but they're all in my head
they're all in my head
(just like us)

In the palm of my hand,
You placed
The sun.

A crow came to me in
my dream
And said
"Tomorrow you will die"
The next morning I awoke and
Had the earge to laugh
I was alive and well
And reassurred myself
It was just a dream
Just in my head.
Later that day,
The boy my heart ached for
The boy I adore
Told me he had to go.
The crow's foreshadowing came true
I'm dead without you

if i had the poetry to tell you how soft i am in hot bubbles
i could drive you mad
the combination of my prepackaged scents would make you curse
like they used to
for that one boy
whom i have willfully discarded

if you did not have the imagination
i would show you
and christen your forehead
with fig and blood orange

if you cannot reach my tousled wet head,
if you cannot not kiss my freckled shoulders,
if you cannot not put your arms around
my soft, bathwater waist
i should not tell you
that you could

no one
likes a tease

it started as a faint whisper
a subtle scratching at the door
a clawing at your insides

the sound echoed through your hollow bones
the vibration hurdled through your veins
and your emaciated soul absorbed the disturbance

red hues overtook your pale skin
the blood percolated through your pores
a loss caused by the monster within

convulsing in a pool of your own plasma
your breath comes in jagged gasps
and your body consumes itself

the creature resides behind the door
self-destruction is the lock

He saw the light turn off,
what he once knew wasn't there anymore,
and it's funny how a memory,
or a ghost keeps hunting you down.

And there are times you don't want to talk,
not because you haven't moved on,
but because you remember who you were,
and you're not proud,
and you're not her anymore.