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Dead Sep 11
It’s a bit past midnight and you are on my mind again.

No metaphors, no clever word play.

your lips, your eyes, your face.
The way your nose scrunches up when I tell you you’re beautiful.
The way you look at me when you’re to scared to kiss me.

It’s past midnight again,
And you are on my mind again.
Dead Sep 11
Your lips met mine once more as we reluctantly put distance between each other once more.

You may not be embracing me on those long drives home however, your presence still lingers.

Even now in my bed, hands still shaking I long for your arms around me.

Those arms that were never mine but always have been.
That heart that I could never break but always feel.
Those lips that I would always dream of but never kiss.

Playing out our love in small scenes, short acts, dancing up and down the stage hands interlocked eyes trained on one and other.

Tiny ponds with enough waves to sink the strongest ships.
Destroying the beaches, flooding the coffee shops and antique stores.

You have always been my forever.
You have always been my never.
Dead Sep 11
I kissed you last night.

Head in your lap, a million thoughts spinning through my head, breathing is out of the question, hands shaking.
Funny thing about it is every nerve in my body may be firing off at once, but lying on that bench, rain beginning to commence it’s onslaught.
I felt at home.
Maybe that’s you.

You. Exhausted, wrapped up in a blanket, stressed to hell and back.
You looked like an angel.
When our lips connected for a brief moment I forgot it all, everything dissolved like the last bits of ash in yesterday’s bonfires.
I wanted to run with you.
I wanted to go, live, be free.
I wanted to hold you, to touch you, to feel you.
I wanted to wake up to those eyes and doze of to the smell of your hair.
I wanted to take all of your stress and your pain away.

I wanted you.

I kissed you last night.
Dead Sep 11
I never pictured a future with you, we were Just two kids with each other and no care for what the future held. After all, who cares if you’re alive tomorrow when you fall asleep next to your everything? Maybe that was our falling point. Now I just can’t shake you, we found each other wounded, beaten down. And all we ever cared was of if the others heart hurt as bad as it did yesterday. You’ve been gone for a long time. Longer than I care to count, but your spirit, that free spirit... still lingers. You’re the calloused palms of my hands, the smoke in the air. You are the itch in my scars and the burn in my lungs, just short lived pain.

You left me the way you found me, and for that I hate you.
And for that I love you.
Dead Sep 11
Please drown with me my love. Tonight we sit once more along the concrete left from undocking tin boats, where the lapping waves fill in the painful silences. Please drown with me, together holding each other for the last time as we are swallowed by the black. Whether it your uncertain love or the freezing water, either way I can’t seem to breathe. Please my love, drown with me tonight.
So I can’t feel you leave tomorrow.
Dead Sep 11
Funny the older I get the more I find myself changing
The ways I hurt myself always change, different pains. Same vices

As appealing as seeing my blood make those strange designs as they drip down my arms sounds.
It’s becoming harder to hide the wounds.

Maybe it’s the self doubt? Challenging myself on the most minor choices. Eating away at me.

Becoming obsessive over friends, strangers, anyone really.
Knowing I’m not their problem.

Or maybe it’s the drugs, the same ones that keep my brain at bay are the ones that make the grey matter rot,

it’s all about moderation, and tonight I have none.

I’m on a drive,
I’m smoking a cigarette
I’m hearing very little
I’m feeling even less
Wonder if I’ll see the engine stop, I wonder if these keys will enter my pockets again.

I wonder if the lights fade out or if it’s a cut to black

New weapons.
Same vices.
Good night.
Dead Sep 11
Funny how pretty everything looks,
Soaked in over saturated colours.
I’ve been stuck in this room for months, I’ve been stuck in this skull for too long to care.
Four walls, whether paint plastered and polished.
Four walls meet my eyes.
I wish I could sew my eyes shut, only see what I imagine.
I can hear the cars becoming less constant outside, even the cats are sleeping now.
These lights are too bright for me.

I wish I could turn myself off.
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