i just wanted you to hold me
so tight my bones broke,
but the force cracked my heart
midnights always last longer than they should.i spend sleepless nights in my room
staring at your picture on my mirror
and wondering why on earth someone as beautiful as you
would ever love someone like me,
but then i remember
meadows.you only ever picked dead flowers
because you wanted to leave the living ones
for others to admire...
i guess that's why you chose me
over everyone else.
there's rain on the window.hands like yours could choke the sea
and paint clouds in the sky.
hands like yours could tousle the hair of god,
but you'd rather touch my face
where do you fall when you fall in love?i see my voice curl toward the sky in crystal breaths
as i stand beneath the stars and ask the gods
"where do you fall when you fall in love?"
and in the distant thunder roars as zeus clears his throat.
lightening strikes to start a fire
and in anticipation i sit by the flames as he begins his story.
"love," he says, "is the beautiful medication
that we drink to still our pain,
but often it is overdosed
and we always end up crashing
like a star falling from my sky."
as i watch the shadows dance about his face
aphrodite proudly walks to us
with her golden grace and emerald eyes.
"there's a kingdom," she says with ivory verse, "just below the sea
and it awaits young lovers there
where they drown for all eternity."
at the mention of the sea, poseidon falls down to us
from his chariot atop the cliff and in his booming voice he declares;
"and in that cavern the butterflies are drenched
and with heavy wings they cannot fly
so they suffocate the lovers."
with the quietest gait of a clumsy fox
rain.i still have buckets in my room
from when you poured your heart out.
plastic pails full of pain and love
and lust and tears and names and smiles.
i don't know why i keep them...
maybe i hope one day you'll come back
to claim them.
or when i'm being really dumb
i let myself hope that you'll come back anyway
sometimes i get mesmerized, watching the flies.i'd drink the bleach
my mother pours into the sink
just to feel it eat away
at the chapped beige skin
peeling from my vermilion lips;
it's winter in this summer wasteland
and i'm jealous of the sink.
i hope you remember to bring the flowers.the stars whispered late
as we lay beneath their
"what if i die today?" you asked.
and i told you in that case,
i'd see you by tomorrow.
you don't need stars with city lights.i love the city,
because you introduced us.
your apartment was on wycliffe avenue,
a rectangular gray-brick building
that was our make-shift castle.
i could stay up all night
sitting on the fire-escape
and watch waves thrash within the harbor.
long after midnight fled
and we were still curled up
on your couch
my parents would call to ask me where i was,
even though they already knew.
late night sirens
and insomniac car horns,
mixed with your measured breathing
became a lullaby
that lured me to sleep
admists the ivory sheets.
i would always wake
just before dawn
and wait for the sun to rise
so together we could watch you awaken.
and even as i said goodbye
i was leaving my jacket
hanging on the kitchen chair
just to have another excuse
to come back.
i think most people would call you a regret.you're the mistake i'd gladly make
for the rest of my life.
but i'm just a few saturday nights
back in november.
beautiful.i want her
like the atlantic needs a storm,
but she's causing hurricanes
to flutter in some other boy's
i choked on dandelion dust clotted to my wrists.i remember years ago,
back when i was six-years-old,
my mother called a plumber
and cursed in her sunday best
when the line went dead.
i couldn't see past the counter,
so i laid face-first against the floor
and waited for the pipes to unclog
so my parents could recommence
pouring my childhood
down the drain.
the willows no longer weep for us, isn't that sad?hospital walls
aren't very thick
and so every night i could hear you sleeping
soundly in the room next to mine.
i wasn't trying to kill myself,
not that time,
i just wanted to make myself fall asleep
so i could find you in our dreams.
you were the poison i couldn't wait to drink.ten thousand faces
could reflect in that broken mirror
hanging behind my door,
but i'll only ever see yours.
may rest upon my lips,
though none of them
could taste like yours.
i find it funny
in a tragic, pathetic way
that no matter who is speaking
it is your voice
resonating in their throats.
i could burn my fingertips,
so that all sensations numb,
but every time i trace my memories
your skin would still feel like a thousand flawless
and i could give away my heart
to the most ruthless hurricane,
but even it's caress
would not cut me
i'm going to need you to breathe for us.don't fall in love with me
because i don't do things the way your exes do.
i'm not going to take you to some fancy restaurant
with a suit and tie and valet to park the car
i'll take you to a library instead
we'll go shopping together
and try on some other people's grandparent's clothes
we'll get new names and fake shitty accents for each reflection
i'll convince you to buy an ugly jacket
by telling you your face is so damn pretty
no one's going to look once at that color blocked windbreaker
you'll wear it in the car,
but fidget uncomfortably when we stop
so we'll switch coats outside the art museum
you'll take my picture next to some abstract piano sculpture
constructed of old park benches
and tell me that i'm brave,
but i'm just a coward who likes to make you laugh.
i care too much about what people think
but not when i'm with you
because those strangers are just echoes of your shadow.
we'll go into the bell tower of that catholic church by the harbo
unrealistic ideologies of an
are toxic; breathing
is a chore. there is
a careful warmth in the
combined effort of
we are the forgotten.
we are the tangled limbs
and childhood stories for
a more sensitive future; we
are the longing, we are
we are measured
in the people we touch;
and I will love you
in the UV light of
hide and seek paranoia.
I love you in the red shimmer
of harbored dreams, I love you
in the industrial gl
writers filter out their lungs with lighter fluida briny blackthorn boy, i
am rotting, reinfected -
a skeleton's blooming from
underneath my skin; she's
between my collar bones,
she's inside my jaw, she -
she is vile, the way all necromancers are
(but god, am i envious).
...and everytime i flip
these empty pages,
i can see
are the blank
[i have nothing to say .]
Listenin another world
i don’t exist
but you do
and i pray
you miss me
as much as
i miss you
so that one day
and i might
feel your breath
on my skin
(i dream of pathetic miracles)
Foolish Enough To Be LovedI'd dig into my wounds
just to make you stay,
cough up my self-inflicting wishes
to have your arms locked around me forever,
because your departures poison my thoughts.
I want to claw my eyes out,
disease my lips &
rip off my ears,
because your existence
will be the death
of me if i ever see