Roses are red;
           Blindfolded are you
           dripping wet
           from the things I did to you.

Why do I choose to write when I'm sad?
What about when I'm over the moon happy?
When I'm crying on the floor nothing but sobs reach my mouth.
I reach for a pen
But,
When I'm happy.
I inhale it.
Believing not another day will be this joyous

Here  I am again. Sorrow in my heart.
Nothing but sadness wiped on my courages face.
Every time I'm sad it's a different kind of pain.
But the pen in my hand always stays.

it's the car crash that nobody was around to see, nobody to call for help
it's the drop from the precipice that never ended
that sensation in your gut of sickening weightlessness
forever in perpetuity
it's this daily unanswered call
an echo unreturned
it's this constant hesitation
this wavering sensation of incompletion
a melody with no conclusion, unresolv-

I want your lips to learn every inch of me, and your fingertips to follow suit..

After everything, you throw your body into the fire and I put my teeth to your neck. A fire of your own creation
                                                        ­               (coming from your mouth);
teeth of my own creation
                                               (coming from my veins).

If time makes a monster of all of us, I hope it makes the two of us sirens – I am so tired of being a vampire. I am so tired of loving a dragon. I am ready to drag warships down to the bottom of the sea and I am ready to stop drowning.

You don’t bite back, baby.
                                                You never bite back.

I say I can burn in this desire and you say Oh, you will. Okay, I'm sorry I forgot to lock the doors but this fire motif is getting to me. Splash my face with water, throw me in the deep end, turn these flames to smoke. Turn that smoke to air, let me breathe it on in.

Let me do that for you.

If time makes a monster out of all of us, I hope it makes us immortal. I hope it makes us gods. I hope you never stop saying yes, never stop biting words off the tip of my tongue.

i've never felt more at home nor more fearful than when your hand is resting on the small of my back and when the current of the electricity between us is only bringing us closer to one another.

He was sleeping so soundly,
I couldn't help but stare
At his figure lying on the bed,
No barriers surround him there.
I leaned in closer for a look,
His hands resting near his face.
The feeling of my arms around him,
The feeling of his strong embrace.
I yearned to relive that moment,
But this time he's asleep.
All memories of him conscious and not,
All these I want keep.
So I stared too long at his lips,
I stared too long at his cheeks.
And when i got to his eyes,
He was staring back at me.

I still have the scars on my ankle
From the day we got drunk in school

I have a few nights burned in my brain
I have some type of mind
That returns to a mountain girl
I make peace with bodies thought otherwise to be dead
I make no apologies for laughter in churches
And my throat was raw on the first day of spring

I miss flying high in that aeroplane
Where guitar strings did anything but strangle our hearts
I left the state
Just to play our soundtrack to a room full of strangers

As you jump back from me disgustedly,
My words can only bring empty soliloquy,
Stapled jaw lines, & open mouths,
Mumbling I'm sorry, through cracked lips,
You wonder why I sleep with my bedroom door locked,
Don't cry over split blood on tile floors,
The clean up is easy.