Back hunched,
he carried the weight of the world,
his rounded shoulders layered
with dust left by lavish cars.

Unshaved, unwashed, and unabashed-
he accepted the bag I handed him
and took my hand,
so small and clean within his.
He asked god to bless me-
Still so sure of his existence.

We lay in bed, the only place I know him-
Wrapped in each other, legs a tangled heap-
Still sweaty, we are perpetually sweaty-
And he holds me with a tenderness I haven't seen before.

It is these times that we speak French-
During *** he speaks German, I do not know what he says-
But it sounds angry, and I like that.
Afterwards we speak French, the language of love-
and I tell him I'm in love-
but not with him.

I tell him I'm in love with a man thousands of miles away-
who cannot hold me.
And I trace the scars on his arm with my fingertip-
White lines that stand-out against the glistening black of his skin-
Which spell out a name that is not mine
and I know that he still loves her-
Because he tells me.

He pushes my hair behind my ear, and kisses me on the forehead.
It's a gentle kiss, not meant for me-
he knows I like it rough-
But I close my eyes and pretend the lips belong to someone else.
We pull eachother closer.

I wish that you could have my heart-
in its entirety
I wish that you could have my heart-
but I'm keeping it for me
See, I gave someone my heart before-
but he went and gave it back
Yes, I gave a boy my heart before-
but the ******* turned it black.

The pixels of the letters-
That flowed from his beautiful mind
Through his fingertips-
Glow, as though each was a small angel
Descended from heaven
With a message, just for me
That was read with eyes blinded
By hopes and expectations.

But all the pixelated angels in in the world
Could not make up for the smile
That refused to reach his eyes
Which always seemed so cold,
And never quite reached mine.

You can hardly sense him coming,
your heart is so naïve--
And his match, struck, lights a burning flame,
With which you now perceive.
But some things can’t last forever
For It has just burnt out, you see.
So the world returns to Darkness
And you’re left with what should be.

My town is a time- capsule;
undug before its time.
My town is a familiar song;
with painful, haunting rhyme.
My town is a thrift store jigsaw;
all the pieces don't quite fit.
My town is a holey target;
with the bulls-eye not quite hit.

Failures
Quirks
Shortcomings
Flaws
apparent at every turn.
My town is a heaping bonfire;
a mess destined to burn.

You inhale oxygen while I inhale strife;
Breathing to keep living but it slowly ends my life.
You say that it will **** me, and I do not disagree;
So hold your breath
And bite your tongue;:
While I breathe misery.