How can we be so close,
And yet you don't feel the need to consume me, to touch me?
I begin creating constellations
Out of the freckles on your arm
And I take sips of bitter coffee,
As I remind myself,
That our love is temporary,
And that one day I will be waking up
To the empty cries of the wind,
Rather than your drowsy eyes.
You tell me that you'd do anything to make me smile,
But I doubt you'd wait long enough,
To see the crease around my eyes form.
I want your words to resonate across my whole body,
But do you?

What are we supposed to do
              with the string of hearts you've united in beautiful knots

Fading out of our lives without a chance to say goodbye

Your smile felt like home
                   and your voice was the calm in our storms
But your storm raged on
                   and you fought for so so long

         I'd like to believe you won anyway

17 years of bad luck and counting,
I find myself walking underneath ladders,
Black cats tend to cross my path,
Mirrors crack in my wake,
The reaper and I are close relatives,
See each other on holidays or birthdays
or unsuspected thursdays,
This has made me a corpse of myself
No longer afraid of commitment
but of myself, this fear of losing you
This pain of up all night rejecting all of my insides,
Flushing feelings like dead aquatics,
I care for you too much to see you hurt

I should write you October
and I swear I tried, but pens
aren't ribbons, and this time ink isn't red.
The autumn wind whips through the fens.
The chorus line is silent and sober.
The lead singer was found dead
under the bridge. (Haha get it?)
I knew it was stupid soon as I said it.
I swear I tried to write you October
but my heart heavy head
is full of Autumn clovers
and fickle friends.