caress a ghost's hand to feel less lonely
undress her nightgown to feel her boney
structure and look into her eyes of ebony
what you cannot find within four walls
comes to you here, in your “baby doll”’s
presence, in waves of red light and calls
from people who prefer to think they missed
you but in reality theyve never felt rinsed
hands from blood that has stuck ever since
you raised them up high to struck a chord
in someones neck- only to feel a cheap sword
up your buttocks but not feel pain or sorrow.

Sitting in the quiet of my room, and realizing it's not actually the quiet of my room. you see silence sounds more like screeching when all I can do is think about the unthinkable. Everything I shouldn't be but everything I am. Everything I shouldn't have done but did.

Brick
        By
            Brick
A house is built
Hour
        By
            Hour
The house becomes a home
Day
        By
            Day
The home turns into memories
Year
        By
            Year
The memories turn into people
Century
        By
            Century
The people turn into stories
Story
        By
            Story
Stories turn into legends
Legend
        After
            Legend
History is changed
Piece
        By
            Piece
Lives are changed
Person
        By
            Person
Love is spread
One Love
        After
            Another
Bricks are purchased
That build houses
That turn into homes
That create memories
That turn into people
That turn into stories
That turn into legends
That change history
And it all started with
Just. One. Brick.

where you used to rest your head
it's splitting open, there's blood in my mouth
ache and ache and ache
'til the weight of existence is numbed to mere memory
i can still feel the silk soft caress of your lips against my chest
where you used to rest your head
i could take on the world with you to anchor this soaring heart

then this anchor made my heart sore
and what's the weight of the world against the weight of your absence?
did you think about the way i'd sink and did you expect me to swim?

the way that you left me, i can't say it's alright
i miss the way i didn't dare let myself take a full breath for the risk of dislodging you
and how i never thought about the way you might dislodge my ribs
where you used to rest your head
and use them for puncture wounds made to look like an accident

did you lose even a single night of sleep, the days i was tucked safely back at home with my mother?
was i anything more than an after-thought once you stopped seeing me?
a problem to be dealt with only once you were faced with it once again
did you ever miss me? or if not me, then the freedom to lay hands without repercussions?

did you think yourself an artist, with hands designed to create?
did you think because you made me that i was yours to hate?

when you streaked my canvas black and blue, did your reflection hurt or couldn't you look?
i bet you could, i bet you never had a second thought, i know you never had the capacity to feel or say sorry

your water colours hurt less than your acrylics, let me tell you this
i could wash away your water-blues with time and little white capsules
your acrylics took so much longer to dry, their consistency so much greater
their texture so much thicker, and stickier, and prone to staining
if they touched their fingers to the palettes you tucked away inside my brain, they'd come away covered
with hurt and guilt and shame, all these doubts and questions
purple, red and black and grey

did you dip your brush into that innocent creature's blood? the one you had me chuck
straight into the wheelie bin like you could so easily discard the lives you took?
if i'm shaking as i write this down, it's only because i remember that day with a clarity that scorns
my Achilles' heel is shovels, pellet guns and alcohol
i hope one day your bullets ricochet and when you treat your wounds you drown instead

red wine's no good for healing, anyway
but then i've never tried it, so what would i know? i'm different from you in every blessed way

i had an epiphany;
you are ethereal,
an ephemeral epoch
within my existence.

i am having the same old conversations
with the stars up in the sky;
supine, i ask them how much
of their beauty lingers within me
not much, i think.
silently, they stare back, blinking dazedly

i think i might just sleep now,
and let them blanket my dreams:
cold and dead and burning out, alas, like me
but still shining just enough
to soften the blow of nightmares

touch me not, but also do
i hate your hands but i love them, too
proceed with caution, i know not how to trust
and when i say so: stop, you must
a brush of fingers might make me flinch
but if you give a mile, i might give an inch
i know i'm difficult, there's little to admire
but if you stay, you'll see through my ire
i'm trying to learn, to understand love
to figure out that touch isn't to be afraid of
i want to learn how to be in love
and i think you just might be the one
with whom i'll make it to the long run
so touch me now, i'll touch you too
because these eyes are seeing you
and i never want them to close again
i think you're my happy never end