The night you zipped the moon open
All you felt was the silver wind sharp on
Your face and a hand around your left
Ankle to hold you in place from running again
Two weeks and a couple of swallowed rocks
Later you're telling lies soaked in dim
Constellations that bleed the sun and
You know I can tell.
The ways you begged your hands to let up the
Grip of danger is still not replaced by caution but
The road is not as purple and gold and this lets
The waves breathe a little easier at night
Colour your skin in stories that sound like
Orange nights and metallic spray paint
So that the clouds in your stomach will be
Able to guide the rough waters close to
Home but nothing about you is home
And nothing about me belongs to one

Should I be prepackaged in rolls of bubble wrap
Placed nicely in a box labeled FRAGILE
wrapped in layers of caution tape?
Should I come with an instruction manuals and tagged "HANDLE WITH CAUTION"
To others I'm easily broken
But to me I'm incredibly durable
Maybe the only sign I should have is
WORK IN PROGRESS

Devil, is waiting for you
To make mistakes, you never wanted to
Devil, is searching for you
To tame, the monster inside you

Devil, is happy for you
When, **** word becomes friendly
Devil, is worried for you
When, love comes near you

Devil, keeps waiting for you
So you can, admire jealousy and feel agony
Devil, will always linger near you
Because, he's you

Never leave me unattended. I will rip myself to shreds and burn my own insides, skin over ash. You will have nightmares for weeks.

Never question my train of thought. The brakes are broken and the lever to change direction was torn from its wires years ago. Colliding metal is the closest it gets to reality.

Never wash your hands in my sink. Slowly turn the knobs and only blood will exit from the antique pipes. If you’re lucky, you are type A.

Never sit in the passenger seat of my car. I will close you in when no one is looking, and the fumes from my angst will quickly make you still. If you can breathe by morning, the odds must be in your favor.

Good luck.

I remember when I was cautious. I used to drink in moderation. I used to keep track of the pills I took. I used to read warning labels. I used to kiss people I loved. I used to smoke on rare occasions. I used to sleep every night. I used to eat three meals a day. I'm reckless. Everything in my life has changed. The only thing I am careful of now is you

They can be found. They can be lost.
They can be warm and tender. They can be icy, like frost.

So beware. Handle with care.
You can never take them back once they're out there.

I should come with a ******* warning label,
cautioning others about my tendencies
toward self-destruction,
and warning them of the consequences
of choosing to get too attached
to the inevitable time bomb of me.

I try to warn them away,
but they don't listen,
or they brush it off as nonsense.

"You shouldn't love me," I say,
eyes deep with grief
because I know the truth of the words.

But nobody heeds my ******* warnings,
so I'm left stepping over the remains
of us, having to live with the knowledge
of what I've done.

******, I tried to tell you.
But no one ever listens,
they refuse to believe.

And in the end I'm left having to watch
you shatter, knowing I'm the cause.
I tried to warn you.
You should've listened.