meadows.you only ever picked dead flowersbecause you wanted to leave the living onesfor others to admire...i guess that's why you chose meover everyone else.
midnights always last longer than they should.i spend sleepless nights in my roomstaring at your picture on my mirrorand wondering why on earth someone as beautiful as youwould ever love someone like me,but then i rememberyou don't.
where do you fall when you fall in love?i see my voice curl toward the sky in crystal breathsas 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 fireand in anticipation i sit by the flames as he begins his story."love," he says, "is the beautiful medicationthat we drink to still our pain,but often it is overdosedand we always end up crashinglike a star falling from my sky."as i watch the shadows dance about his faceaphrodite proudly walks to uswith her golden grace and emerald eyes."there's a kingdom," she says with ivory verse, "just below the seaand it awaits young lovers therewhere they drown for all eternity."at the mention of the sea, poseidon falls down to usfrom his chariot atop the cliff and in his booming voice he declares;"and in that cavern the butterflies are drenchedand with heavy wings they cannot flyso they suffocate the lovers."with the quietest gait of a clumsy fox
5:17 AMand it's sad to thinkthat if you came backto tear me apartagain,i'd let you.
i think most people would call you a regret.you're the mistake i'd gladly makefor the rest of my life.but i'm just a few saturday nightsback in november.
how to love a boy who is lost.falllike you're jumping from a cliffinto a thrashing sea whose waters you cannot tread,dive into their depths and fill your lungs with waves.just don't close your eyes,because you have to search for him.feel your weight drag you to the bottom,feel the ocean embrace youand don't be afraid of that pounding in your chest.each heartbeat is sonara signal calling him and his calling you.learn to swim nowif you drown you cannot save him.swim to the fallen cities,the submerged castlesand maritime gardens.there you'll find him,lost in thought and studying the fish.i hope you saved some oxygenso you can breathe during the kiss.
numb.i'm left standing in the rain,holding every death like a bouquet of flowers,but damn aren't these daisiesbeautiful?
rain.i still have buckets in my roomfrom when you poured your heart out.plastic pails full of pain and loveand lust and tears and names and smiles.i don't know why i keep them...maybe i hope one day you'll come backto claim them.or when i'm being really dumbi let myself hope that you'll come back anywayfor me.
there's rain on the window.hands like yours could choke the seaand paint clouds in the sky.hands like yours could tousle the hair of god,but you'd rather touch my faceinstead.
Art Hurts.I fell in lovewith a painteronce,who loved his artmore than anythingelse.A painter fell in lovewith a poetonce,but I focused on my artmore than anythingelse.We never had timeto love each otherbecause canvas and parchmentlured us away.We only metwhen I would sit for a portrait,or he would pose for a poem.Love is such a prettymuse,but the pain,of which we had an abundance,forged art so profoundand truethat it's a wonderwe're both stillalive.
How Love Works.I neverfell in love withyou,you neverfell in love withme.Your demonsfell in love withmine,my demonsfell in love withyours.
maturea sheep in wolf's skinjust looking to play with the big boys
left.i just needed you to staybut you couldn't hear me beg you,because the world outsidewas so damn loud.
epitaphs don't count as love letters.he said my eyesgasped like a dying breathand he wasn't going to wait aroundfor the funeral.
to say i'm sorry is so cliche.and on your flawless face,in the hollows of your cheeks,i poured my every secretin the form of silver tears.
you were the poison i couldn't wait to drink.ten thousand facescould reflect in that broken mirrorhanging behind my door,but i'll only ever see yours.other namesmay rest upon my lips,though none of themcould taste like yours.i find it funnyin a tragic, pathetic waythat no matter who is speakingit is your voiceresonating in their throats.i could burn my fingertips,so that all sensations numb,but every time i trace my memoriesyour skin would still feel like a thousand flawlessfeathers.and i could give away my heartto the most ruthless hurricane,but even it's caresswould not cut melike yours.
can you tell i still love you?i keep a picture of you in my cigarette packsometimes i blow smoke against your matte faceas if it'd creep up your nostrilsor down into the depths of your ivory lungsso you'd be dying with meand sometimes i cut your eyesfrom other picturesand glue them in placejust to burn them out againsometimes i just look at the picturewith an unlit cigarette resting on my lipsi used to be in the picturebut we cut it in almost-halfand took the side of each other;i wonder where you keep me(you used to use it as a bookmark,is it still in that bukowski book you never finished?)i keep your picture in my cigarette packand sometimes i just ignore it.
i'm not going to lie and say she was perfect.her skin was spotted with what she passed off as freckles,but what were really scars from a thousand summer sunsas she ran about outside,climbing trees and treading rivers,pretending to be an american bomberin the midst of WWII.she kept crimson stains on pearl pink lips,which always had the habit of getting on her teethbecause she put on make-up after dressing in her carand ordering coffee in every way she hated itas she drove to the record store three times a day,ignoring her job downtown.she owned four and a half hairbrushes exactly,i took count on the first night i stepped into that whirl-wind room,though her lopsided up-dos of messy blonde hair revealed just how much her fingersnever broke the dust.she had these lovely fragile handsthat showed each and every vein and bone,the type of hands made for tearing boys like me apart.how could i have even expected to survive,a paper poetheld against a reckless flame?
.wish i livedlike an animal,wish i cared aboutnothingbut fuckingand staying alive(wish this was a lie)
.she saidcall meif you need meand i do,i can't,i cannot sleep,got ghosts workingthe night shiftas i speak i layin the bathinstead of the bed,and she sayssilly,i saywe're madeof repetitionand i know you'dsee it tooif you lookedclose enough -(charlotte charlotte, look at it this way)
RedemptionRedemptionRedemption they askmy moonless nightsLurkingin the darkness of my mindAlways whispering,that there is no other storyTo redeem me,Except mine.
.september -i've been underthe illusion it'sa sundayfor four days,i sit on your kneeat the kitchen table,roll one of thebullets under my fingercold gold andand smooth,do you know whatthat is? -yeahbut i don't thinkyou do - he saysyou're fuckin weird,you know that? fuckincold, maybe i'll juststart calling youwinter -and he doesnovember -they grace me withthree days, and i cannotconvince youto come with medecember -the only time i like youis when you're asleep,i gnaw one leg out ofa trapjust to crawl my wayinto another(it takes everything i have not to smash my bottle over your head)
We are burning like sunsYour dreams do not reside in a far-flung galaxy,wishing on the stars arching above our planispherewill not bring them any closer.Your strength does not hide around the endless curveof a winding riverbend,currents cannot take you there, paddles will not help.As a pin-head holds millions of atoms, so too doesevery cell in your body, every pore.Your dreams lie nestled in the ravines of your palms,and you are star-dust;Strength is pooled within your blood,you hold a universe within your spine and the cosmosinside your skin is full of unlimitedpossibilities.
.she'll hold him tight tonightand dread the coming mo(u)rning
.she saysexplain these thingsto me -i say the silence sort of ticks - my sadnesshas a face, think blue, think black and grey, think sanguinered, the end of may, he had a pulse too strongfor me to take,i killed it, stripped it bare, i carried it rightto it's grave - i say andmy lungs, they feel like frost, they're filled with silverlight and sharpness, rattling pips, a scream - i stayedinside my bed for weeks, i didn't eat, i didn'tdream - i think in fire, flame, volcano,resurrect you, keep your nameinside me like a splinterturning green(i could not bring myself to say yes, but i think you know that)
.the moon shudders;silver dust landsin my hair and i sigh,knock it off -what's your problem?i'm frustrated -i've been trying tostrike a match that won'tlight for two hours,she saysyou carry a lighter,remember?
.i have followed you, nightafter night,followed your voice, those silveryribbons of air -led me to the black gateswhere you lay,curled -i sit on my roof,and the darkness sticksout it's tongue(it says make sure you smile, they'll think you're not glad to be here)
whispers.i was so hesitantto take your hand,because when you said you loved mei knew you meant itand that scared the hell out of me.