Fall in love
with the way he touches you.
Because you know there
are centuries of love songs
and lonely nights
and soft kisses
in that touch.
You know there are months full
of pain
and hatred
and hot rage
in that touch.
And as his finger
tips burn you
fall in love with the
scars it'll leave
behind.

Fall in love with the
way his lips feel
like cracked pavement.
Fall in love with the
way his hands are
calloused.
Fall in love with the
scratches on his skin
from when he fell down
off the half
pipe.

He is like sleeping
on a rock hard floor
and you just get so
comfortable you don't
realize there are
rocks sticking into your
back.

He is an itchy sweater
you wear anyway
because it keeps you warm
and you forget it scratches your skin.

His ripped up jeans
******* video game
assassin's creed
tattoo.
Fall in love with the way his
eyes are empty
but his hands
are always near.

Fall in love with the
silence he leaves you
with. Fall in love
with the emptiness.
Fall in love with
how he calls you
babe.
    Fall in love with
his everything.
    Fall in love with the
way you finally feel
content and faithful.

Fall in love with the
weird way you love
each other.

Fall in love with the way
air encases you in this embrace
of "I'll keep you alive".
Fall in love with the way
nicotine stains your tongue
Fall in love with the way
alcohol makes you numb.
Fallin love with the way
that you have to risk
everything to be happy.
Because if you aren't
on the verge of death, you
don't fall in love.
If You aren't on the
verge of death, you
don't feel alive.
If you don't see
"the light" you feel
like you're blind.

Fall in love with
heart break.
Fall in love with
your rumbling stomach
fallin love with
thunder clouds.
Fall in love with
danger and heart
attacks, fall in love
with pain.

Fall in love with the
way you waster your
sanity for the sake
of living.
Fall in love with
the wind.
Fall in love
with the grass.
Fall in love with
the sun,
and the snow.
Fall in love with
a terrible artist
fall in love with
a terrible person
and fall in love
with the way
their love burns.
Fall in love with
the way everything
is awkward
and nothing makes
sense.
Fall in love with
stupidity fall in
love with intelligence.
Fall in love with
the things you
hate.
Fall in love with
really stupid sappy
poems that writes
block has written.
Fall in
love with this poem.

Love me like
the worlds
on fire.
Love me so
much it hurts.
I want to
die in your
mouth.
I want to
inhale you,
and have you
kiss my
scorched insides.

I want to be
a folded up
piece of paper
in your back
pocket.

I want to make
you go deaf
from the screaming.

I want your arms around me. I want to hear my name slither out of your mouth like a ***** secret that hurts to conceal. I want to feel your cold hands on my hips again. I want to feel you. I want to feel you. Your hands pressed sweaty palm down on my back, burning a hole into my skin. I am yours. I am yours. I am so yours. I want to hear you caress my ossicles (hammer, anvil, stirrup) by whispering "babe" in my dreams. Making black clouds of lust fly through my head
     Have "I miss you." sound sincere. I want to be whole with you. And I've never wanted to be whole with anyone.
     Broken has always been my adjective. But for some reason you never complain about the glass stuck in your eyes. My rough shards harming your smooth soul. but you never complain about the constant scraping noise of you loving me.

I want to be in
your arms.
Buried so deep
in the noise of
your quick
breaths
slowly sliding
between your
teeth.
That my
body quits
functioning
losing everything.

Because barriers
stopped mattering.
Anything.
Everything.
Became the air
disappearing
and dissolving.

Nothing means
anything any
more.
But you.
You are solid.
I'm drowning.
I'm sinking
I've bitten
all the hands
that could
of grabbed me
from the edge.

But you,
you are a
bungee jumping
rope.
And you save me
from rock bottom.
you have always
been plan A
secretly disguised
as plan C.

I keep cutting windows into my cardboard walls
Square-shaped snapshots of sunshine
They remind me that there is a world outside
Of my dark and dusty paper cage

I don't bother with panes of glass
(I do not want to see my cold reflection)
But instead I leave the gaping holes wide open
And try to remember the taste of fresh air