If I had known when our last day was going to be, would I have lived that week differently?
Realistically, yes.
But only because I would have been panicking.
So let's not be realistic.
Let's be idealistic.
If I had known then what I know now…
I would have read to you.
I would have read until my throat was sore because I know how much you wanted to be home with a book.
I would have turned on all your favorite music. We would have streamed a thousand movies. Anything you wanted to see. I would have brought you anything you wanted to eat or drink.
I would have asked 5 billion questions and written it all down. I would have recorded your voice so I never forget the sound. We would have recounted our best memories and I would have asked you, how am I supposed to move on without you. I would have written your memorial and read it aloud so you knew what it would say…
I told you “I love you” five-thousand  times a day. But I would have said it five-thousand and one just to be safe.
If only I had known.

The devil wore black framed glasses
and had a New England accent when he was drunk.
The things the devil could do with his tongue,
the beautiful promises he'd whisper late at night…

The devil loved like a hurricane.
My roots were sturdy, never bending in his storm.
When the devil made love it was consumption.
I'd never been so seen, so adored.

Beneath his steel exterior the devil was soft
and a little broken.
But he could heal my wounds
with the promise
of a gentle hand.

I've never been a believer,
but for a time I worshiped at his altar.
Our Garden of Eden looked like cracked cement and Midwestern grey skies.
The trees bore no fruit,
but we made our own sweetness.

Eventually though,
the cost became too much
for us to remain that high.

I dug my fingers into wounds from his clipped wings.
Echoed his worst fears back to him.
His hurricane turned into an earthquake
and shattered the ground at my feet.

We spiraled into darkness.
Able to feel each other
but afraid to ever be too close again.

I know you are not in the burgundy SUV that's sat unmoving in the parking lot of my apartment building for half the year. But it feels like the only place I can go to be close to you. 

What I mean to say is, I don't know what happens when we die but in case you're still hanging around I make sure to keep the interior clean. 

And by that I mean, I know people do not remain in the material things they owned but those are the only pieces I have left of you.

And I guess this is just my way of admitting I haven't washed the shirt you were wearing before they rushed you to the hospital. It's hidden in the back of my drawer. 

This is just my way of grieving or maybe it's my way of refusing to move on…

More often than not
the White Knight's armor
is spray painted
and he couldn't even spring for the glossy coat.
His trusty steed
is a bicycle with training wheels
because he doesn't know the first thing
about saving himself
let alone a Queen
whose crown has threatened to topple.
He is a boy,
masquerading as a man.
Don't buy his lies,
candy coated sweet temptation.
He's lacing them with arsenic,
and hoping you'll slowly die
reaching for him to save you.

You are the sun.
Celestial perfection 
burning with resplendence. 
Filling the room in every space where something doesn't stand in your way.
I cannot look at you directly 
for fear of being blinded by your intensity.
But without you I am off kilter.
I need your warmth,
I need to feel your rays kiss along my skin.
When the darkness sets in,
and grey days become plentiful,
I mourn your absence.
I ache for brightly lit days.
But you cannot hold the sun in your hands,
you cannot make it stay.

I have written so much poetry about you 
that you will forever be living, 
among the pages of my notebooks,
with the greatest loves 
and sorrows of my life. 

And it's funny, 
in the way that it isn't funny at all, 
that you are both. 

I'll never regret the time I spent 
falling in love with you, 
loving you, 
being loved by you.

Knowing how it ends, 
I'd do it all over again.

For one more minute 
trapped in your gaze,
for a flash of your knowing smile, 
I would do it all again.

So now I fill my pages 
with future plans we made, 
ones I've had to let go of. 
I fill my pages 
with memories that I tightly hold on to. 
I fill my pages 
with our story so that it will never die. 

My pages overflow 
with love 
whose name gets read as loss. 
And among them you will live forever.

With a rabid snarling maw 
frothing with bloodlust, 
and long skeletal claws 
digging into the wooden floor, 
pulling up gashes of fiber.
Eyes pierced through her own 
like daggers trying to chill her to the bone. 

But she could not be bothered 
with this dramatic fanfare of threats. 
She was too exhausted, 
her skin felt as if it was wilting off her bones. 
Her muscles throbbed with each heart beat 
as blood pulsed through her veins. 

But the physical pain was nothing
compared to the war of her mind 
and the storm of her heart. 
Her sigh exposed every unspoken feeling 
raging inside her.

His lust for violence faltered. 
In the stretched silence 
only her heart break could be heard
and he realized 
he was not the only monster threatening her. 

The ones she was fighting inside 
were much deadlier.