three words you were maybe to afraid to say
or am i too foolish to see it clear

I started the process of memorizing you today

35 freckles on your right shoulder and a break in the cartilage on your right ear near the top was as far as I got

I think even if I have 100 more years in your arms, I'll never know how many individual hairs you have on your chin or why you sound like you're dying when you sleep

What an exciting thought
To never know all of you

I don't know if your I love you means what it means for me
Someday maybe I will

Or maybe I'll spend my whole life trying
To hear all your thoughts behind
the words
I love you

Bull frog in fish pond—
Loud, one day I heard last croak,
Raccoon washing hands.

I just love the idea of writing.
Sometimes it will suddenly pull you out of whatever you’re doing
Forcing you to jot down anything that came into you
There was a time when my thoughts are too much to handle on a pen and a paper
So I prefer to collect them first on a crystal clear jar
As it struggles to escape from me
Then I tried to watch them course through the sealed container
Until they have decided to calm down
And as soon as they did,
I would let them escape once again
Giving them the freedom to unite
And a chance to create new ideas once again
In order for me to place them back again
To where they are supposed to be
Nowhere else but, in my brain.

She may have closed the door
but you nailed it shut
You refused to hear her weeping
while you sat upon your ****
Your back against the door
Where you occasionally bang your head
Needles hanging from your veins
Demons not waiting for you
To. Be. Dead.
She sat upon the other side
listening through the door
her good eye against the keyhole
until she heard you breathe no more
Along an empty hall of dust
that ends in a pit of flames
that carries centuries of souls
to their everlasting shame
She sat upon that dirt floor
thinking she was the one to blame
if only you had turned the ****
or just whispered her name...