She hung strands of
Sunshine from her neck
And painted her eyes with
The froth of the ocean
In hopes to bring the moon
To envy.

Part of me
Wants to cut open
My chest
With a jackknife,

And tear whatever
Resides in those dark
Warm walls
Right out into the world

So it no longer has to
Breath my breathes
And swallow my words.

Milk from the moon
Mats the hair of those
Caught in twilight downpours,

And the sea sings
Tunes rusty with drowned
Ships and voices alike,

And dust cannot be seen
Drifting about if light cannot
Creep through blinds drawn too tight.

My fingers get tangled
Between the fiery strands
Of her hair,

The strings of my heart
Restitched in cross-pattern arrays,
A web laced with black nail polish
And a deep, humbling green

That rolls through my body,
Much like the shock of chills do
When her lips brush against my own.

His eyes flickered so brilliantly
He'd often melt his skin.

In a cave by the ocean burned
A man's heart from his chest cavity
Carved open, froth from the sea
Slipping into his lungs and
Smoke from all the guns ever triggered
Seeped from behind his eyes,
Lips cracked with the truth but spoke
Only regret,
Mouth forever frozen in enlightenment
Sought but not shared,

And oh, how the ocean weeps,
For messages in bottles mean nothing
Without ink.

Her lips were like makeshift
Velvet candy,
Her eyes gleaming green
Like a cat's,
Slits of gray and chocolate
Rounding her iris and
Hair made of fire and sun
Alike,

She was a book that could
Chill your soul with the gaze
That warmed your thoughts,
A book whose edges were frayed
And cover was worn,
But oh, how her words dripped
Heavy with ink and passion
As though she had been reprinted.

And he lay down
To sleep until clocks ran out
Of time to tick away,

And he slept through
Endless waves of storms,
Soaking his mattress but never his skin,

And he made sure to pull
On all the loose frays that
Held his sloppily stitched shut eyes

Tight and forever binding.

Hazy hums and unbalanced
Sways fill these days
Of intoxicated sights and
Fights to stay awake,
Quick glances and last chances
For first kisses those
Who isolate inside surely will miss,
Dream riddled breaths that bring
The death to self-preservation,
Locked eyes screaming the
Unanswered "why"s of adolescence, with
Hugs so tight all the chipped
Heights of souls stick back
Together in mismatched arrays
Of awkward days and repeating
Sayings, a monotonous clammerful
Lifestyle once looked at so glammerful,
Manifesting itself in violet twilight
And warm-soaked, color-spilled sunsets,
Early morning blinks of sleepless
Thoughts to think and streets to walk,
Thoughts of talks rather unspoken
And love never broken.

There was a love
Living deep in the
Melting plastic of
Molding bottles of water,

Barely breathing breaths
Of spray paint and
Rusting needles,

Bond only by the
Yellowing, lip-like cracked
Pages of a story

Written between the margins of a novel.

It wasn't so much
The fibers of her being
That made the sun get
Out of bed each morning,

But rather the image of
Her existence that coaxed
The Universe to spin steadily
On the axis of eternity.

The girl who sewed
Together the moon
Because the midnight black
Was all too dark
Sat with a mug of
Hot chocolate beside her
As she worked,
Each stitch more careful
Than the one before.

Once she finished,
Her hair melting into the
Night and her eyes
Greener than the sea she
So often sunk herself in,
She strung her creation on
The rusted nail set in the
Sky, dangling by a strand of
Fishing line,

Only so my nights would no
Longer be so dark,
So my dusks showed me
Dawn was something possible,

And the moon did indeed die each night
So the gold of day could come along.

The wind swept the land
And took my heart along with,
Stagnant in air so still and
Cold, frozen in mid-beat,
Suspended, forever captured,
But it was you, darling,
It was you who
Reached just a little further
Out than most would dare,
It was you who stretched
Over the fall below,
Legs dangling this way and
That over the gutter of
The roof in which you sat,
Straining until finally, all
At once, you pulled my
Heart so trapped into the
Warmth of your embrace,
And all the fruitless efforts
Of those before vanished.
But oh, how I was shaken
To see you gaze back,
Eyes like the sea so
Green, and plummet to
The darkness below,
Clutching my heart the
Entire way down,
The flow of your wind-blown
Hair covering the tears
You shed as you
Fell.

I'm listening to songs I
Only quite understood
When my arm and my
Mind were wrapped around you,

The only thing holding me down
Was once the dreary 3am
Fatigue our conversations brought,
Now it's the memory that used to be.

So here I sit, writing
Poems about what once was
Thought to be a forever,
What could have been forever

Had we let it,
Had you allowed it,
And yes, this poem I
Write is as dull as your

Eyes that once shone so bright,
Reflecting upon an "if" so long ago,
And how it pains me that it's
Not still the dream we had

                             Once dreamt.

Your lungs strain, old,
Torn, a rush of air
Pushing from your chest,
And all you remember is

A troubled flow of blood to
Your head and a quavering breath,
Shaken and hollow and your
Eyelids weigh with all the

Gravity of the world,
Pulling you closer to her,
Bright light,
A lingering touch of her fingers

Against yours, the brush of
Her hair that reeks of decay,
But smells so nostalgically satisfying
In itself.

For love, don't ever leave me alone
In this world unlit by a moon,
I'll follow you close behind.

The sky is gray, dead,
Dying, like my thoughts,
It's warm passion far from bloom,
Shriveled in the chill of the dim.

The vast entirety of nothing
Fills the spaces in between,
And little flakes of Heaven
Shimmer to their collective

Pools of concentrated inspiration,
A burden once enjoyed,
No longer found,
Trapped in childhood wishes.

Sh, my Darling,
Slip on your mask,
Protect yourself from the poisons
Of the world,
The world we,
The creators,
Builders,
Constructors of such a thing
Have reduced to rubble
Just the same,
And Darling,
If you find your eyelids
Feel heavy and your
Breathing slowed,
Drift away from this
Wasteland in the
Comfort of my arms,
And find a better tomorrow.

Is it wrong
That I glance up at the clouds,
Feeling the wind through my hair,
And dream of a mystifying land
Where one can be accepted no matter what?

Is it wrong
That I choose to wear jeans down past my heels,
Baggy and ripped at the knees,
Unlike all the other boys that wear athletic
Shorts, so unscathed and clean?

Is it wrong
That I ask people about their troubles,
Sometimes doing all in my mortal power
To help them surpass the simple,
Even ones I have not defeated myself?

Is it wrong
That while the few friends I have
Dance around giddily and go to
The most extreme only to impress,
But I only hang back in silent content?

Is it wrong
That I do not laugh when others are hurt,
On their knees in blood stained mud,
And I am there with hand outstretched,
Seeming to always be there in time of need?

Is it wrong
That I do not clap, nor do I support
Ones I do not find worthy of it,
Ones who I find in my perspective to be
Quite cruel and bitterly heartless?

Is it wrong
That I choose to sit in the back,
Observe and question from a far,
And wonder why when I do speak up,
It is only taken as a leaf crying softly in the wind?

Is it wrong
That I choose to be one of a kind,
Not part of the crowd, not swimming along
In the universal current of life,
Being my own group, my own person?

They tell me that you cannot win life
Without backstabbing and betrayal along the way,
No matter who you are inside or how honest you are.

But I believe this can only be this:
**The world can only be changed if someone is willing to take the steps to change it.

Your angel's wings are broken,
Stained and completely blood soaken.

For he once could soar, once could fly,
But now he's fallen from a place so high.

A place he achieved by none other than you,
But end his life he might just do.

Please, do not worry, do not fret,
Until he's gone, he's happy not just yet.

And with a final smile, and sorrowful sigh,
Your angel must bid you a final *goodbye.

The pictures behind my eyes
Are the only place I see her now,

For the graveyard is all too crowded.