I've spent a
night with you,
a night where
hours fled at
cryptic speeds
and the earth
stopped turning
on its axis
because of the
***.

But lately
my hands spend
their nights
waving you back
into existence;
lately I've been
cracked open by
the fingeres you
used to trace my
***.

Lately,
all the nights
become one and
I scream whispers
of your name;
Lately you have
been in my throat,
again, and I cannot
swallow.

If I had wings,
And you held me up
to the light,
You would not,
for one second,
think that I am an angel.

You see,
people like me?
We have wings,
But we do not fly,
because of cages
that have been built
long before we even
understood that we
are trapped,
inside ourselves.

People like me,
Don't just think (a lot)
we dream,
but never with
our eyes closed,
because we are
always prepared
for worst case scenario:
flight response.

People like me
see words as outcomes,
we are always one
sentence away from
our great escape.
We are euphemisms
for bad grammar
and we always get
graded an "F"

We have no full stops,
because we are safe
between the commas and
ellipses of life.
And sometimes,
People like me
hope that the
seizing of existence
can be hyphenated
because we are tired
of waiting for the end.

If I had wings,
I'd probably tear
them off and cut myself.

See, for people like me,
harm is second nature
And we're still
figuring out what is first,
because numbers remind us
of time,
and time reminds us
of how long we've been
broken and damaged and hurt
and still alive because yes,
we hate that too.

Some moments are more
real than others,
the days I drown in
your brown eye glitter,
they're real.
they're so real.
the days I choke on
regret because you're
not here anymore,
they're so real.
so hard to swallow.

Some moments last a
lifetime, and some,
only moments.
but now I carve the
remains of myself
from you and I.
those moments I crave.

Sometimes I still feel
a part of you, the moments
where I am whole and
nothing hurts and I feel
everything; the moments
that are beautiful
don't last forever.

The other day we had a moment
cold hands meets warm heart
and my tongue still hurts
from the heat of the coffee.
that moment is over.
I'll never get it back. ever.

And sometimes I loose sight
of my heart because it's still
lost, drowning in your
brown eye glitter.
I cannot shatter.

It was all just a dream,
Wrapped with a blue ribbon,
Blue, my favourite colour
in the rainbow.

It was Picasso paintings
to a blind audience,
A standing ovation for
things we didn't understand.
We didn't need to,
I get that now.

Blue,
you are what I
imagine the sky tastes like.
I still hear the claps,
and it reminds me
of your hands,
The hands that
remind you of
your mother.

It was all dark clouds
on a sunny day,
Nostalgic nightmares
that made us smile,
You do that,
you know?
Smile, when I look at you.
Blue, my colour of happiness,
my colour of truth.

It was London weather,
all the time,
The kind that forced
you to stay inside
with yourself,
It was blurred lines,
and cracked mirrors,
Novacane on days
I felt most alive,
It was everything,
and then some.
It was all just a dream,
And I'm never
waking up from it.

you swallow obligation like
a five-course meal, while
i choke on the bitterness of
disappointment.
your initials have become the
menu onto which my heart is dazed,
now all i am left with is the
aftertaste of our initial connection.

Sometimes,I am afraid of the dark.
Mostly because dark means night and night means nightmares and I cannot wake from you.
Your violent stares ripping through my body, you have tunnel vision, visualising all the ways in which you wish to ruin me, but I am the one doing all the ruining,
See sometimes I am afraid of the light.
Mostly because light means day and day means longer hours that are dragged out of me because there is so much of you in me.
I cannot escape from the cage you have locked me in, mostly because cage means world and world means big and big has never been anything I was apart of.
So I learn magic tricks that the moon thought me in the day or is it at night, I don't know, mostly because I have been awake too long, and not alive long enough.
I do not know how to live, when all I am is a body and body means jungle gym and that means that I am constantly being used as a gateway for someone else's fun.
It is dark now. You know what that means?
It means that another day has passed that I have spent, yet again, not living.

There are cracks from
the remains of your soul.
Normally I would want to
avoid them, you know,
because of the CDO,
but with you, I want to fall,
through the cracks,
be swallowed whole
by the damage she did to it.

Facts: I want to climb inside,
And sit there for a while,
And say your favourite lines,
from your favourite book,
That you lost and don't want to find,
I want to tell her that we hate her.
we, because two merged as one,
The moment I laid my eyes upon
the scarlet letter written across
your skin,dark,and with permanent ink

I want to be wrapped up in your veins,
comforted by your blood stains,
The other day you described your ideal
moment of peace, so that's what I'll be,

I will become the perfectly green,
perfectly cut grass, and I will be the lightness of the waterfall behind the trees,
I will be nothing more than your death.
So that every. single. morning.
Our souls resurrect all over again.
And you forget she was ever there.