There's an overfilling
happening
somewhere next week,
kissing you.

u know hes a bad person right
                                                                            He isn't when he's with me
u know hes talking to other people right
                                                                      He doesn't when he's with me
y r u w him anyway
                                                                                       Because he loves me
u know thats not true right
                                                                                                               I know
so y
                                                         Because it feels nicer than being alone

Look at me;
watch as my body
caves to your
everything.
Your hands are
like a poison
seeping into
my skin,
infecting every
inch of my body.
But please,
continue on,
I won't dare ask
you to stop;
You're easily the
worst, best thing
that's ever happened
to me.
-JRM

The boxes
which keep my blood clean
are stacked as tall as I,
a monument
in the spare room
to past battles.
Too many words,
too many thoughts
******* in the
hand-to-hand combat
with mortality.

No more.

What life I have
will not be defined
by an indeterminate end.

I live to write poems;
I will no longer die in them.

but eventually, all the metaphors fall apart
and come to nothing
like paper dissolving in water
fanciful words dissolving with it
and without romanticized phrases
and rose-tinted writings
there is only unembellished truth