You talk as I attempt to listen.

The thick air between you and --
I divide my attention so badly;
Breathing lost voluntary importance.
Your voice is a song I haven't heard.

My pupils gaze on your rain drenched hair
Following every trickling bead's river.
My reflexes see to be more magnetic
Catching every vigorous downward drop.

Lost in the soaked contours of your collar;
Transcending to a moment as new strangers,
Revisiting my premonition of you above me,
Our bodies, together, can change worlds.

Within a matter of seconds,
We have traveled for days.

I remember to breathe and listen.

Before you fall in love with a suicidal girl
Don't.
Suicide can not be romanticized and though she might idolize you
Remember that you may not be enough.
Remember that this world may never be enough.
Demons don't just go away, sometimes they just hide in the shadows.
And even at the highest noon they are there. Just smaller. The sun will go down.
She will always have shadows.
Remember that no matter what you do
You are irrelevant in her master plan.
She will plan out her letters in your arms.
When she is silent hold her. Make her know that she is loved, it may not be enough but those few moments in your arms might make her think twice.
But don't assume for one second you will be her savior.
When you see cuts on her wrists do not beg her to stop.
She won't.
She will cut deeper for letting you see her weak.
She will try to be strong.
She will put on a show for you. She will make you forget she was ever depressed.
Remember that sunsets can make you forget that night is bound to follow.
Know that night will follow.
When you get her final love letter to you
Ignore the fact that it is stained in blood.
Do not pour your precious time.into wondering if she suffered.
She will write her apologies in her best handwriting.
Do not read it.
Get in your car and drive.
Drive to the nearest bar and read the letter through hazy bloodshot eyes.
Do not blame yourself.
Do not look for moments you could have done something different.
It'll drive you crazy.
Before you fall in love with a suicidal girl.
Don't.

"How can I help you get back where you were?"
Come on now, you should know better.
The lacquered polish of lies said one time too many
I can't get back to where I was, not now.
I live and breathe you.
Tell me I deserve the world.
Crave me.
A barely human safety net, trying their hardest to break your fall
(I'll burn her apartment to the ground)

Today was the first time I put on makeup in six days,
flinching as I anticipated the usual sting of misplaced liner.
I have to look good, though. After all,
how else do I make up for nearly a week of anesthesia?
There's nothing else i can do.

I lie on my back on dulled blue flannel
whispering a Hail Mary, one of many this week
and think of all the pointless, trivial things we shared.
You used to tell me that I was always brushing my teeth, and I smiled each time,
laughing through mouthfuls of blood and self-preservation.
How was your week? What's the weather like there? Are you thrilled for tomorrow? Do you remember what it felt like to fall asleep hearing me on the other side of the line?

I wanted to draw today, but notes on my clipboard were everywhere,
surrounding a graphite picture of Lisbeth Salander like a halo.
Notes to you, of course, all of them.
You used to say you liked my lips,
covering your own mouth
so I couldn't see your beautiful, dripping, two toned words.

My to-do list is filled with broken promises and shards of glass, but I swear,
I'll get around to it all some day.