Your heart is not a bureaucrat,
waiting on tax returns.

Nothing is in writing,
nor verbal contract.
The only inking is flushed skin upon contact.

It is implied.
It's the high road.
It's when the bed shakes during a storm;
It's when the grass grows again in the morning.

His stump finger nails traced your shoulder blades, and you couldn't feel that sensation anymore; he chewed it away. And he chewed it away unknowingly, but truly, he should have known... Should have known he was gnawing at you every time he was anxious, or angry, or wouldn't listen or COULDN'T UNDERSTAND. Every time he. Just wasn't. THERE... He just wasn't there anymore...He chewed himself away... He chewed and chewed until there were only smears of blood and pus, and nothing left to reflect on but a hang nail. A hang nail, now, just waiting awhile longer to grow a short length longer so something, SOMEONE... or anything... Could manage to clip it. Tear It. RIP. IT. OUT. As quickly as you could, as quickly, as a band aid. One, that turned out to be such a temporary solution, the irony being he was the stepping stone he had once thought you were, the irony being you were the whole pond, the one you had once thought he was... maybe... So Kicking, and screaming... Yeah, maybe. but that hang nail will be out and that hang nail will be healing. That hang nail will go away, so YOU. One made of such goddesses fire, who forges worlds with such fire like lies, but with such a body and soul to behold. You, who left a love which had left him so inspired; will be okay, and YOU will be alright... Because when his stump fingers traced your body, the only trail that he left behind was that of two beings, who were soaked in blood, with a love gone, a love un-stoked. You will be okay because the only thing you had left to feel, was something that once was, and the only feeling that's left of this whole ordeal seems to be... Something, is so, so, far away... A feeling, feeling much like someone screaming, "What, used to be?.."

Again I feel the need to cut open my own skin. Again I feel the need to bleed for the things that you did. Again I can't control this beast within, a hate in my heart that can't help but win. So I'll take out a blade and cut it all off, I'll bleed this all out just to make it all stop.

I won't rush myself,
It'll be just like you.
Eyes locked, and so we knew,
Love at first sight;
We'll fall like two fools.

Every corner, is just there,
And the former, sit so bare.
Everything, that I'm aware,
Has no thing, to hold me there.

I've bled them dry,
How fine how fine,

For once in their eyes,
They now hold no life.

Nor apple seed bloom,
Nor mannequin beheld.

Always too soon,
to be put on the shelf.

Patience,
is a virtue,
I'll learn to,
pursue.
Greatness, isn't purchased,
I'll be nervous,
with you.
Baseless,
on the surface,
I'll be worthless,
with you.
Contagious,
is this fragrance,
I'll learn from,
anew.

A message from my balding scalp and dying follicles. Just acting out as testaments, of how I had tried too hard. Of how I had tried too hard to figure out all the wrong things. And how I had went all out with them, and then went all out, without. And so now, with all this done, I am all out of everything. Out of my mind, out of control, out.. Of you. Out of the love I was so sure would hold so true. The love I was so, so sure had held.. So, so true... So now complacency and naïveté has brought ME, Out of a body which was once a temple.. MY temple. My hiding place and holy sight. My prayers going forwards towards a brighter future, where everything worked out with the moonlight and with our cosmically charged super stars aligned, and it all worked out with such giggles and bright skies. Bright skies all to spite the moonlight for being a nighttime thing... And we were to be so sweetly enveloped; in figuring it all out, and everything.

It kinda seems to me, like I need to reinforce some things.
One of them is me, so fix in form of dreams.
But if dreams are where I'm dying,
Then where's the fun in that?
So much left to wonder,
I thought we made a pact,
Not to give up on her;
And then never to look back?

I understand where you're coming from, so I'll leave you alone.
But that doesn't mean that I can't hope, you're still reading my poems.
And maybe feeling a little at home.
And baby I know that you won't.
But I can still hope, you know where I'm coming from.
That this wasn't how,
This was supposed to go.

Smoking cigarettes again, haven't got much chance at anything I can barely think. As I lay here on, my, bed. Listening to the very music that makes my heart stop dead.
Stuck on death, solving all your problems with a slit of your wrist; wondering how you ever got like this. Is it really cause your mother drinks? Or because it'd "always work out" when it never did.

The fire that kept you warm, could take your ******* house,
For ***** sake it could always just burn out.
Drop you off in some dead town,
And somehow through that, you have found, that you don't even know yourself.
Cause the things that you love could burn you down,
Whether it fades or goes out loud.
The things that you love could burn you down.
The ending only seems worse for now.

Unblemished? A woman, yes but yet unfinished. A long way off from her goals and ambitions. On her way? Yes, but yet the road is long and hard, and riddled with frigid winters.

I just want to write about anything that's ever really hurt me,
About everything that's ever really gotten to me.
I want to let it all out.
Just leave it all on the pages in odd shapes.
I want it to play tricks and trade things in places they shouldn't be.
And when it doesn't fit, I want it to just be the way it should be, where it falls then, perfectly.

She actually makes me smile a lot.
I'm wondering if this feeling's lost,
I have a feeling it's not.

even though he was the one who ended things
I was the one who chose not to be friends
because one day if he moved on it would crush me
I think that's why they say, all good things must end
I know I loved him more than my life
but is this life of mine worth giving
and now that he is gone and were not close
is this life that I have worth living
I made so many promises to him
we said forever and always when we dated
but now it seems there is no for ever
all these outcomes I hadn't even debated
but what do I do now that were done
do I try and live out my life
do I forget I ever loved you dearly
and let someone else become your wife?

Each time with my soul mate, we've forgotten to speak.
Maybe we'd score a date, but I'm ever so weak.
Confidence is all part of the mystique.
Beauty's only skin deep. But seems an important piece.
So people are seas, and there are more fish than just me.

If our angels, are telling us to part? Then who are we, to say we're not? With these wings, that they have gave, we'll fly fly, fly away, won't come back again. Though if you say you're here to stay, I might just have to stay away. And if these palms still they shake, I might just have to stay that way.

Write a poem everyday, a challenge I dare say.
Ignites a knowing in a way. This is challenge, not just play.

Having a muse.
Is like spiritual truth.
Never before, will you be so amused.

how do you sleep?
when you feel so sick?
I just feel too weak.
Nothing will heal this, i need to weep
hurting, but you wouldn't see
how could you ever, put your faith in me.

I make myself sick.
I'm sick in the head
I pray for a fix
But we're already dead.

I just need to cry, I just want to die, I just need some help. I just want to **** myself.

How can I feel, that what's meant to be will be?
All that I had been, I've destroyed so happily.

I love those who are far away,
And romanticize the distance.

You'll never see my messy house,
She'll never see me so stressed out.
You'll never hear an I'm so sorry.
Apologies for what I've broken.

Among the flowers where you were told to wait, and listen to the wind.
The sum of it's parts is always late, but what it brings,
A friend at timid pace,
A friend who knows the place,
A friend to tend the flowers,

You knew while you still wait.