I don't know why he always has to make me feel so bad about myself
But I wish he'd stop...  
I just want to be happy

She's like deliquescent caramel,

the cool side of a pillow

        to lay your weary head,

subtleties of springtime &

          warmth in wintertide,

whispering hope upon lush  

        Zephyrus pipe dreams,  

    mellifluous nymph with wings

                 of a butterfly warrior,

softly determined,

    unfailingly true-hearted,

       whilst relentlessly ferocious

  Wise, yet sometimes struts

        blindly in the light,

       as dulcet tones of a cello's

           melodious marmalade

            in sentiment's tender fancy,

she's beauty, charm,

         knowledge, poetry,

               utter strength,

               & humane weaknesses,

she's twisted and ethereal,

           her aura sublimely captivating

     you may covet her body,

            you'll never possess her soul

to my darling who feels she's not:
our separation is mere illusion.
truly, your pain strikes me as i write this;
your sensations of abandonment,
and the decisiveness they have caused,
bleed from my skin into the fibers of my clothes.
i am no longer clean.
i do not feel pure.

to my severed arm and shortened tendons:
destruction is merely another side of life.
out of disappearance comes all things-
without space, there would be nothing to contain us,
nothing to allow and enfold our beings' spirits,
and they would sputter and cease like my love's flame.
i am no longer yours.
i do not feel full.

to the farthest star that my eyes can see:
your light reaches me- i glimpse you!
in the perceived emptiness between us
there is no distance to be found;
around us exists the infinite potential for
further connection and deeper growth in closeness.
i am no longer alone.
i do not feel sorrow.

At night while you're lying in your bed, angry at the sleep your body is depriving itself of, I hope you think of me and I hope your blood boils.
When your brain is dancing, tangled and knotted with your demons from all realms of your life; past, present, future, and you feel your hands clench into wrecking ball like fists, I hope you feel my phantom hands close lightly around them reminding them the pain isn't worth it. And then I hope you swing anyway.
When you grip a hand full of your hair, I hope you feel my fingers brush the tendrils from your face, and then I hope you pull.
When you lean against the first solid object in your path, on both arms, just looking for something to hold you up, I hope you feel my arms snake around you and my breath on your neck reminding you to breathe, just breathe with me, like this, slow it down, match me. Then I hope you forget how to breathe all together and your legs give out and you fall, weak, to the ground.
While you're down there shaking with anger and sadness and heaving out tears you dare let no one see, I hope you miss my calmness.
And more than anything, I hope as every second plays out you know that all it would take is one call, and I'd be there to ease you out of the nightmare I know you're trapped in.
And then, I hope you choke to death on the thought of letting someone like that go.
And I hope for your sake it was worth it.

Every night when I turn over, before I fall asleep, I wait for you to ask why.
I wait for you to ask why so that I can explain.
I can explain that if I turn over I can't see you. If I turn over and I wake up in the night, which is seem to do every night I stay here, at least two or three times, then all I see in the moonlight is the attic door, the vague outline of a bedside table, the soft pulsing glow of a charging cellphone.
Because if I can't see you then I can convince myself I won't feel the need to touch you.
Because if I don't touch you, I don't have to deal with the way it feels when you pull away.
So I turn over every night before I go to sleep and wait for you to ask.
But you never do.

Your laughter was more beautiful than any song
now I've forgotten it, and everything feels wrong
I'm slowly forgetting, the taste of your lips
and the exact perfect curve, of your beautiful hips,
Now we're just memories, I messed up and lost you
I've just got the memories, I can't lose those too.