I used a black sharpie to write a love poem on your arm
Hoping the ink would sink into depths causing little to no harm
That the rough words may permeate through your tough skin
And the permanence may prove that forever starts from within
That the black is dark enough to hide all your scars from being used
And that my words are evidence and proof of my love for you

So let that ink sink as deep as it might
My words peirce your soul without a fight
My sharpie art fill you with awe and an imaginative spark
Be inspired by my loving words and the permanent scar they leave on your heart
You may forget my face, you may forget my name but **never forget where my love made its mark

An uproar around the station
filled the air,
plummeting all the death that stank the room,
and killed all that had seem to
be ****** and murderous all before.

The smiles that broke onto their faces,
and the shattering applause that
Enveloped the room
only further heightened the joy that seemed to permeate the room,
striking all the sorrows at heart
with nothing but a simple smile.

there comes a point in time when they are no longer your lover, no more than a friend, and it doesn't hit you until you begin to tell them how you forgot again to turn the lights off before bed, or that you saw their mother at the store, and it's then that you realize it's better to bite your tongue and keep moving on.

Old stars shine on long after life is gone,
Bright lights echoed through voids they leave behind;
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

Born of old dust, born of a mothers son,
Born fated to repeat a mortal grind,
Old stars shine on long after life is gone,

One sparking flame igniting dreams anon,
Defying darkness drawn to drowned the mind;
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

Bright stars that brightly burn oft' seem alone
Where lesser lights eclipsed are hard to find;
Old stars shine on long after life is gone.

Old stars must end when all their days are done,
But light once shone goes on to raze the blind;
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

From dust to dust, from ash to ash, they shone
With fiery hearts fanned by a gift divined:
Old stars shine on long after life is gone,
Old remnants fade yet still their light lives on.

You stopped reading my poetry, so I decided to stop writing you poems. All you gave me were rocks to fill my pockets, although the weight kept me grounded for a while. After all, I was constantly drifting away.
I told you I was afraid of the dark so you made sure to keep my life bright.
Then you left.
Lights out.
You never noticed that even 6 months after our break up you're pictures so hung on my wall. Memories are of you are like horror movies and love stories bleeding on my carpet. You made me believe I was making something out of nothing. But before I could blink you disappeared. I begged you to stay but you shut the door in my face. No matter how hard I pushed you wouldn't open the ******* door. I didnt want to go anywhere else because you're the only home I've ever known. So what was I supposed to do when you locked the ******* door? Where do I go when "home" doesn't want me anymore? Broken and scared, I built myself a shelter out of sticks and drug addicts. Now that's where I stay. You swallowed the words "I love you" rather than feeling them get caught in your throat like blood filling up your lungs.  Trust me when I say I can't get the words off my ******* tounge. Of all the things I've left unsaid, I just wanted to scream, choose me. Choose the girl who loves you more than herself. Choose me, because of all the people in the past, future and present, I would still choose you. I wanted to beg, whatever you do, just don't leave me the way my father did. But you are long gone and I'm left to wonder why. Why didn't you choose me? I thought it was clear you should choose the girl with 7 knives sticking out of her chest, still fighting. Why wouldn't you choose the girl crying on her knees, begging,  DON'T LEAVE. But I don't blame you for choosing the ocean.  After all, who wouldn't? I'm a ***** puddle a dog wouldn't even drink from. The walls even started talking to me. Every night whispering "what if". I thought I would be devastated when you left. And I was. For months and months and months. I was a ******* disaster. Leaving pieces of my heart everywhere I went in an attempt to leave you in the past. Yet I just lost more of myself rather than you. Some nights you still coat my pillow in tears. Yet I'm thankful that some day I might forget the sound of your voice, I'll still remember the way you held me as I cried while I opened up about my ****. I'll still remember walks through the park and making love beneath the trees... My memories of you are warm like fire, like growth, evolution, the way nature will keep existing long after our love dies out. I always begged for you to worry about me, to wonder why I was drifting away. But when you didn't fight for me, I started using my own fists. Now I'm coping with the reality that our hearts don't stop beating even when our lovers have stopped giving us reasons to live. I know this is over. I won't beg you to come back, because I know- I already know. This won't last. But all I needed was for you to act like every thing was okay, until I could learn how to live when everything isn't. I still miss you, and oh god, the way our legs tangled together under the covers, my head on your chest. But lately I've been crying when I think of the way you touched me because your touching someone else.
So if you are trying to read between the lines of my poetry, if you are finally wondering how I'm doing:
I'm learning to live without you. Most nights my heart aches. Sometime I think I should have crashed my car the night I was driving alone. But the truth is, I seen the brightest of days with you. And with a little patients, I'll see bright days again. When it comes down to it, I will be okay. I will be more than okay. With or without you.

Her eyes are almost dead,
Struggling to get out of bed.
As she begins to dress,
In the mirror she sees a mess.

There’s so much she can do,
But there’s also nothing to do.
Nothing at all gets done,
She clutches her head as it spun.