this is what my heart
                   looks like:

           it is            geometric
                                       and angular
           there are                      dark corners
                                                        a­nd sharp edges  
But sometimes in the
sunlight some of my
sides look so
bright

i know it’s such a cliche thing to say, to tell you your
eyes look like coffee mixed with cream, but your
hair reminds me of pennies sitting at the bottom of
rivers. and your shoulders feel like the mountains i stumbled
through in New Mexico.
i know it doesn’t make much sense to say your tongue contains
unreadable syllables, but your fingers create lightening,
and before you touch me, there’s thunder rumbling through my
sternum.
and i think the solar system is within your cheeks,
and those tears you spill have all the diamonds i could ever
want.
i know it’s such a cliche thing to say, to tell you your eyes
look like coffee mixed with cream, but you taste like
sunshine.

she says -
if i carve your name onto my ribcage in the morning before the sun comes up will it come true? will it **** you this time?
maybe ill lie down so that you can pick me apart,
fingernails breaking on my iron skin
would you like that?

You burn with an incredible passion.
That stubborn pride, that brilliant
anger, all bursting underneath
a strained composure and your
need to be the tough one. It
flares out from your eyes,
those rebellious chocolate
pools reflecting every word
you choke down. I am awed by
the passion you hold, the fire
that drives your every move.
It is what allowed you to love so completely.
--A tactic I could
never seem to comprehend--
However, love and hate burn from
the same flame, and the hate that
now warms your chest is reminiscent
of the love it once was. I do not
blame you for it. I envy you the
opportunity to feel so fully. I envy you
the hatred that burns in your chest.
I envy the love that it once was.
There is no flame here.
No passion to burn. Only the
cold concrete of thought and the faint
memory of a warmth I could never hold.

I pleaded with my heart not to fall but it dove headfirst anyways