darling wouldn't you let me haunt you for a few minutes
when you're sleeping & cold & sweating & dying
I'm a God, the sky and a girl
I'll kiss your mouth until you bleed flowers
and stroke your fingers with my thumb
until you get pins and needles
and ****** every intention you ever had of hurting yourself
I'm merely a butterfly fighting with a lion
in a game of toss and tumble
under bedsheets and in swimming pools
the ****** and the ecstasy that balance on the tip of your tongue
and in the crook of your elbow
are what grounds and holds you
but my love for you is what saves you
sinks you
kills you
makes you crave redemption
but I'm not the daisy or the tulip which you have in the vase beside your bed
I am the cat you always throw out
due to mewing too loud at 3am
and trying to cuddle beside you
just as you drift off to sleep.
I am but a God, the sky, a girl
And you are but a God
The earth
And a boy.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 7:38 AM UTC
Sometimes I think about how it'll feel when I finally hold your hand.
Or lay eyes on you for the first time,
and it hurts a little bit.
Well, actually, it ******* aches. A Lot.
I ache without you.
I ache at the thought of you.
I can't even breathe.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
My dog is barking and my head is spinning again I think I drank too much of that cough syrup, I don’t try and do things like this too myself you know – it just happens – like that one time he tried to kiss me and I said no – but he continued anyway and then that one time following this where he slipped his hand over my mouth and told me not to tell our friends of the ways he touched me then left me. Oh god I’m so sorry I never meant to hurt you I never meant to open my mouth you’re on my mind all the time whenever you are not on my fingertips – tap tap tap – I’ve lost the past week in sleep I’m losing my mind again – my mother did that when she was 19 too, y’know. I’ve lost my beckoning I do not know what I am doing oh god I’m so sorry please open the door, I’m knocking so hard I have to come in, in in in.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
I could spend a lot of my time writing of the ways in which you make me feel
but really, nothing can summarise the way that you laugh,
or the way that you smile at me,
when I say something dumb or confound,
or tell you that I love you.
Nothing could represent the tilt of your head,
or the dent in the corner of your mouth
or the way your eyebrows raise in sync with my own.
I can't put into words the feel of the butterflies knocking against my ribcage -
fighting to escape from my abdomen -
jumping and clambering up desperately until they reach the back of my throat.
Nothing can tell anyone exactly how I feel about you.
I think maybe that's for the best.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
I think it's maybe the way that you look at me
from 6000 miles away, through a camera lens attached
to the top of your computer,
or the way that you laugh whenever I sneeze
or say something absurd
or tell you that I love you,
or it could maybe be the way you tell me every 4am
how lucky you are to have found someone
who appreciates the arson you committed
back when you were 15,
or how you talk to your mother about me
and that one time I told you about when I
clambered over a fence, drunk and silly,
3 years ago, and sliced open my thigh.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
You are a God in the sense that I cannot take my eyes off of you,
nor breathe in your presence.
There is some form of divine revelation
whenever I kiss the mouth upon you which breathes life
into the hollowness of the shell of which I have become.
You are the God that I pray to
and the devoutness I practice to the constitution.
You are the apostle I give all my faith unto,
in the hopes that my body will breach Heaven;
the Heaven which takes its form as the man you are,
which stands before me.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 7:42 AM UTC
You remind me of the autumns I spent
walking down through the cemetery as a child,
hands clinging to my mothers shirt as I walked alongside her
before things got sour and the season changed.
You remind me of the one time I fell badly
and scraped my knees and cut open my lip,
and cried for the very first time
in front of a girl who grew up to die
at the age of 12
after getting into the car of a stranger
who promised her affection in the form of
bittersweet niceties.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
There are far too many things which need to be done, and they are no closer to being done, not one bit. The dishes downstairs lay stacked upon the work surface in the kitchen, crumbs gather on the floor and dust accumulates on the carpet which has not been walked on by a foot other than my own in almost 3 weeks. The windows need cleaning as the sunlight can no longer find its way into the room I currently seek my refuge in, and it is a pitiful thing to have to watch as the sun clambers desperately in an attempt to claw it's way through to me. The notebooks littering my desk are all but half-full, with its paper coffee stained as mugs of rotting liquid gather beside them, one by one. There is a rather distinct stink of mouldering books, as my taste for fine reading has become belittled and seemingly extinct as of these recent days.
There are far too many things which need to be done, such as clambering my way out of this hell-hole and seeking a refuge in something other than the room in which I have imprisoned myself in. There are far too many things which need to be done, in terms of escaping and finding a way to crawl to you, even though you reside in a place which is out of my reach.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 6:05 AM UTC
Yes but really though Darling
what even are these 'angels' that you speak of
I do not understand
why it is my hair that you say is remarkable
or the way I throw myself off of bridges
or smash bottles against the cream walls
or the ways in which I threaten to **** you
whilst in the midst of kissing you.
For if these angels you speak of were
anything like these things
then I can find no difficulty in
realising exactly why Heaven
is precisely where I need to be.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 6:03 AM UTC
You came to me when I was enraptured in
the art of drowning myself,
in half-full ***** bottles
and bathtubs full of bleach.
You became a personal sanctuary,
safer than the four walls of the churches
I was always denied entrance to,
due to misadventures as a young child
and community rumours which I knew not how
to rid myself of.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC