I sit and smoke on the steps.
I sit and smoke my fears away.
All of my insecurities.
I try and blow them your way.
I hope you'll catch them.
I know you smell them on me.
They're bitter and rotten.
A moment ago - you turned off the light.
Pushed me on my side.
I craved one more in that moment.
But it was empty.
When I woke; the room resembled it in this way.
I remember a kiss.
Then like a dream; you faded away.
I walked with soft feet afraid I would wake those below. That they would hear and know.
I tiptoed and breathed in what was left of you. In pillowcases. In sheets. In t-shirts. You lingered.
In my jean jacket - so did my insecurities.
I was hoping if I slept in until the sun came. You would join me. That you would seep into me & wash away anything foul & ugly. But you left me in the morning. And I was left craving once more again. The smell was so pungent. You could see it coming out my pores. It almost screamed.
It did scream.
It screamed.
Hold me.
Tell me.
Want me.
Need me.
Unwrap me.
Don't throw me away.

My mother asked me:  
"What was he thinking?"
"What did he see?"
I couldn't tell her.
I couldn't speak.
I wanted the words to fall.
I wanted them to be free.
I couldn't think.
I just kept staring.
Blankly.
Hoping the moment would pass me by.
And that my mother wouldn't ask me why.
"What does he think of you?"
Why don't you ask him?
God knows I don't know.
Everything's a question,
up in the air.
Everything's uncertain.
Everything's unfair.
He keeps on sleeping.
And I keep on dreaming.
It reoccurs to me,
that somehow I keep breathing.
I can't be the only one who doesn't know we don't exist.
Who feels we've lost ahold of this.
My mother asked me.
I couldn't tell her.
I couldn't speak.
Will you tell me
so I can tell her
what you think?

'Go around to the back door' you said.
'I hid the key under a sheet.
Go around to the back door
I know the gate is locked,
look underneath'
That night I was stumbling.
Clung to you.
Longed for my body.
For any other body.
I lingered somewhere in between.
Felt like someone had stolen me,
walked in my skin.
Who is this thief?
This robber?
'She was alive' you said.
Then what am I?
The next morning,
I had no memory.
I laid in bed all day.
You went away.
The silence was sickening.

Last night - I couldn't breathe.
(You wanted to know what I was thinking)
Last night - I couldn't see.
(You wanted to know if I was hurting)
Honestly - I tried to be honest.
Truthfully - I tried to get to the point.
Instead I danced and danced and danced.
Why won't you dance with me?

I want to rip you off - but you don't come off easy.
I want to get you off - but it's not that simple.
You tend to sleep & I tend to talk.
And talk and talk.
I tend to leap & you tend to walk.
I skid my knee.
But I never stop.
I keep going.
On and on like a bandaid.
Bleeding underneath.
But that won't stop us from seeping out the sides.
Well get soggy and soft over time.
Only water will wash it off.
So I'll stay dry in this heat.
I'll keep it turned up to ninety.
Giving everything and what am I getting?
We need stitches.
We need surgery.
It won't help anything.
Just a bandaid.
We'll just keep bleeding.
We're dying.

I put you on.
You smell like campfire & have a stain somewhere.
I can feel you clutch to my skin.
I'm not sure how much longer I can do this.
You're dangling off of me.
It's a long way down.
I want to peel you off me.
But this has become something so much more than a bandaid.
I can already hear your breathing in my ear.
There was a time you held me and told me it would be okay.
Is it only in panic that you can really see me? Really touch me?
I crumple you up and try and toss you. But you're suddenly sown to the palm of my hand.
If I try to rip you from me, I'll bleed.
I will faint at the sight.
That can be guaranteed.
I'm waiting for tomorrow to come.
But tomorrow is too late.
You should told me yesterday.
There are words lingering.
I spilled out everything on the table, and hoped you'd pick up the pieces. Who was I kidding?
I am so tired.
Everything is ninety.
It's ninety degrees.
I'm boiling.
My flesh is melting.
My lungs are filling with hot air.
I'm suffocating.
It's ninety percent.
Sooner than later, I'll have reached the top.
What else will I have to give?
Here take my heart.
Take everything I have.
I don't own anything anymore.
Not even me.
It's too late.
I can't detach even if I wanted to. You're a part of me.
I wear you like a sweatshirt I've had for days and haven't washed.
I'm afraid that if I do, You'll wash away too.
I can see the tide now. It's too far out to see.
I wish you would have been there to see it with me.
Where were you? Why weren't you there?

I can't shake this feeling now
We're going through the motions*

I've known it for a long time.
I am trying to be patient.
Reaching out for something.
Feeling nothing but thin air.
Why is that you tug at me?
I'm growing weary.
Can you not see what you are doing?
Can you not feel it when you are close to me?
We breathe the same air.
Speak the same words (occasionally)
For a second, I was convinced you knew me.
But I think i'm constantly playing movie reels inside my mind of the someone I thought you'd be.
(This isn't a movie)
You feel like a ghost to me.
Like a zombie.
You're eating away at me.
Devouring.
I told a woman the day before yesterday
"it's much to late"
I've already given almost everything.
I want you to have me.
Need me.
Consume me.
We are untagged.
Untitled.
It's freeing.
Living in this moment with you.
But i'm afraid of the darkness up ahead.
Of the road i'm having trouble seeing.
I can't imagine you.
I can't imagine me.
I can't imagine anything.