My nights were too long

So you left

with every part of me

that mattered.



Goodbye.

First of all you must know that death
Does not always come in bright flashes
of black and red.
Sometimes, he comes in subtle waves
of blue and green.
Death does not always appear so suddenly
sometimes death crawls. Inches its way
into your heart and makes itself loved.
Enticing the victim with peace and warmth
do not listen.

one.
It starts with the first day you can't get out of bed.
The first day death holds you down and embraces you.
With your arms weighed down by lead shackles
and every breath you take takes in sand in place of air

two.
Death is now your friend
and you welcome him freely inside not knowing
what he has planned for you.
At this point you may find red streaks all over your body
in the form of cuts and scratches
He will tell you its's because he's trying to get out.
He will convince you that these cuts.....
they will make you better.
He will maintain that it is true because
He says that you'll bleed out the broken shards
of glass left inside your veins.
Afterwards he will ask
"Now, doesn't that feel better?"
it will.
and then maybe
He will tell you about the pills.
He will tell you that these pills are special.
Made specially for you to cure the crazy you thought you always had
the crazy you probably always had...
you don't really remember anymore.
He will tell the best part of the pills
He will tell you that it doesn't matter what kind
you just have to take enough and it'll be ok.

three.
the last sign that death has invaded your body
is this.
You will wake up in the morning with little to no recollection
of all you've been through. You go about your day as if
all is right with the world.
but at night, you find yourself sitting at the ledge
of your 25th floor apartment window .
then
He's in.

Here is a letter
Because my hand moves
More smoothly and fluid
Than my tongue and my
Blood rolls down my finger-
Tips painting pages better
Than words roll past my lips
To speak poetry so...
One. I'm sorry i hurt you
You let me into the darkest
Parts of you and I, like a child
Holding a bucket of paint
In a white room, ruined you
I'm sorry.
Two. You forgave me.
Thank you.
You wiped clean every streak
Of pain i drew on your walls
and yes, i left some stains
But you are beautiful still.
You always have been.
Three. You love me, and I
Love you.
I do not believe love is magic
Love is patient as you are with
Me and it is quiet
Like i am with you and love
Love is human.
It lives and dies
And i hope it dies with me
Four. You will lose me
One last time. Before the end
I will hurt you and everyone
I hold dear. One last time.
Five. I will never tire of seeing
Your face. It will keep me sane
In our years apart.
And six. I will wait. Here where
Its calmer. I will wait for when
Your hair grays and teeth yellow
And when your memory shifts
Like sand and you forget us
I will wait. And when you finally
See me here
Seven. I will listen to every story
You had since i left and i will hear
About every single morning you
Spent with another and i will
Eight. I will tell you i love you. For
The first time since i left i will tell
You again, i love you. Fresh
Off my tongue like the first time
I uttered those three words
I love you.

The silence you clothe yourself in will become a second skin. You will work hard to remove it. You will scrub yourself raw until the sweet scent of orange blossoms replaces the lighter fluid that has seeped into your pores.

When you finally tell someone, you will be drunk. It will be 2 a.m. You will tell your parents, it will spill out of you as you hover over the toilet. Your secrets mixed with ***** and something sour, something burning, something permanent. It will feel good, to flush the pain out of your throat.

It will be hard for you to be intimate. When you talk to that boy in your English class, you will feel butterflies for the first time in months, those same butterflies whose wings were clipped that night last July. You feel the butterflies, yes, but you will cringe when his hand brushes up against your own.

When that same boy asks you out on a date, and he opens the car door for you, you will want to run. You will feel the air in your lungs combust when he kisses you. You will think he is trying to draw blood when he bites your lip.

You will wonder if he can he see the bruises and fingerprints that still stain your nakedness

You will not believe him when he says “I love you”

When he asks why you never want to touch him, why you talk in your sleep, why your chapped lips are a graveyard eroded from the salt streaming down your cheeks, you tell him everything.

You do not cringe when he tries to hold your hand this time.

Deluded sailor
on his vessel
Set out to drift
on sea, it lies

Smiles.
Dawn only,
merely,
but a distance
to the eyes

Are my words worth reading?

How long does it take you to decide?

3 lines in?

Maybe 4?

If you made it this far, what do you think?

Do you think my words will be

Only just what you want to see?

Words of love or pain

or whats lost or maybe found?

Could this be written in blood

trickling down my fingertips?

Could my words be only yawns

and sighs or relief or retreat?

Could they be calls....

warning the the weary wanderer

reading.

Could my words mean nothing

Just plain, empty ink

sprawled across the smooth white plain?

Could I have wasted your time?

Wasted each movement of your eye

as it pans across the cold, hard screen.

You tell me.

You're the one who read this far.