It’s pouring outside.
Raindrops fall on my window.
Making small puddles

there's something magical about
a sunrise with no sun

watching the blinds go from
algae bloom blue to
the color of mustard
(gold.),

to see the colors pass as do
your bruises. (time.)

the healing consumes you,
burning you
whole.

Deliciously bored
Staring from a window, alone
Midwinter, sunday afternoon
Trees bare their skeletal form to the rain
That runs in rivulets down glass
Scientifically designed to keep the draft out,
Nowhere to be, so I may as well be here
Deliciously bored as I was when a child
Though then I wanted it all to happen,
The world to rush at me, engulf me so
I could drink it in, experience, digest, evaluate
But now it just passes me by, time to waste
Rather than worrying about wasted time
So for now I will enjoy this feeling
Nose pressed against a window pane
Leaving breath patterns on the glass
That is scientifically made to keep the draft out.

on the bus ride home, watching houses blur,
you turn to me and say, "it's going to be okay."
i nod, earphones in and hood up. not okay.
the day didn't go as planned, we got lost
and we spent the day finding ourselves.
summer has just started, but my hands are cold
and my complexion pale, i'm skeletal and rigid;
dark eyes and thin, boney arms. i'm decaying.

the sun casts light onto the window, lighting up
the raindrops like stars on a summers day.
they lead the way home, asteroids going down.
the music plays loudly, cutting all ties from outside.
you can't hear, but the music is sad and i'm trying not to cry.
i smile when you turn to me, nodding quietly.
you can't see, but i'm decaying inside.

Her red lips like the roses of a cracking stained glass window
When she leaned in to whisper her secret
The words falling from them like demons through a gate
Into a crumbling church

Into my ear

I had sat in those pews
With zealous eyes and thoughts upon those lip-red roses
But one by one her demons came like whispers
And cracked the red stained window like a breaking heart