Sweetheart, shut up for two seconds so I can kiss you.
Let those words that mean so much wait a **** second or two,

See if they can stand the pain of waiting to come across your lips.
I feel like I’ve been waiting much too long for exactly this.

The ache in my core is much too hard to stand anymore.

Sweetheart, just shut the hell up for a moment so I can kiss you.
Leave the singing to the birds, love, let me do what I came here to.

I’d love to be the ink beneath your skin, just because I’d love to know
What it feels like to make you complete, to be a part of you.

There is a pain in my stomach from not being with you.

Sweetheart, please just shut up for a minute and let me kiss you.
Let those rants and raves take a little break and live my dreams with me.

So, God permit, if I shut up for two seconds will you kiss me?
Hold me closer and make me forget that this is reality?

I want to wake up from this lonely dream and find you next to me,
And I will shut up for a minute so you can kiss me.

The ache in my core will turn to clouds and I will soar.

Since the day I could speak, I would kneel by my bed, and pray to God
Give me something like that.
Someplace to lock my secrets in, a human vending machine
That kisses all your scrapes and scars
*Give me something like that.

"Whatever is supposed to happen, will happen."

But what about all the effort, pain, love--
will this all just be for nothing?

“Ye—yes, s—sir,” Alex stuttered, sitting up and backing against the sofa.

“Well..” Mr. Joyce clutched the knife tightly in his fist, his knuckles turning white from intense anger. He could feel his son’s eyes growing wider and drops of sweat dwindling down the side of his face. He could hear his son’s heart rate and breathing quicken, and could feel the transfer of cower make the couch shake in unison to his son, on his leg. Mr. Joyce grinned. He moved quickly and pinned Alexander against the back of the couch with his forearm across his neck. Mr. Joyce could feel his son struggling to breathe. He smiled spitefully. Mr. Joyce slowly brought the knife to his son’s face, making sure he could see it.

“Now,” Mr. Joyce whispered maliciously. Alexander’s pupils dilated at the sight of the knife, tears rolling down his face and landing on his father’s arm. He brought the knife closer to his son’s neck, gently poking his delicate skin to see him tremble in fear. “You’ll be an even better son.” He pressed down, carefully breaking his elusive skin and watched in delight as the first trickles of blood broke free. Overcome with fury, Mr. Joyce plunged the blade into him deeper, watching in satisfaction while the crimson blood soaked into the boy’s soccer uniform, poured onto his arm, and onto the couch. Mr. Joyce dragged the knife slowly across his throat, reveling in the slight struggle the boy attempted in putting up. Gurgling sounds escaped Alexander’s mouth, but he was soon silent and still. The blood of Mr. Joyce’s failure of a son darkened the cream colored sofa with every drop that fell from his neck, drying to a deep, disappointing brown.

Mr. Joyce looked to his wife, still gripping the blood-stained knife in his hand and breathing deeply. Krystine peered up to him from the magazine in nonchalance, “After everyone’s finished with dinner, I’ll call to order a new sofa.” She sat up to retrieve the plates of blood-touched sandwiches on the table.

“Aw,” Krystine sighed, looking down at the dishes, then to her husband, “these were my mother's nice plates.”

science tells us that energy cannot be created or destroyed
only transferred
is that why your feelings for me were so easily transferred to someone new?
were they just the next best model of bulb for your circuit?
am I no longer bright enough?
science tells us that materials cannot disappear
so what happened to our memories?
do they lay dormant at the bottom of the ocean
or floating up in the atmosphere?
I still have my share, but yours are no where to be seen
if I could create a chemical reaction to reignite us I would
but you don’t want that
science tells us that atoms can form bonds
you’d think they’d be unbreakable
I thought that too
clouds look so stable and solid
and as children we believe that
but growing up teaches us that clouds are as stable as well
as us
I don’t believe in fate
or anything I can’t see
but I guess if I did I’d say our souls were bonded and that there’s a string of moon dust pulling on my heart strings.
I guess I’d say I AM the moon and you’re the sun cause no one would notice me without you
I guess I’d say that in a past life our bodies were rocks that formed together
I guess I’d say that when I saw you for the first time the sun shone brighter on you than anyone else
because you are so beautiful
and I guess I’d say that fireworks explode in my chest around you
and that galaxies must have collided to form those eyes
and I’d say that time stops to hear your voice because nothing is ready to hear angels sing
and I guess I’d say that id like to kiss you in the rain of our happiness and yes I said rain because rain falls hard like I did for you
and I guess if I believed it I’d say that somewhere in the ******* stars it says I was meant to love you
but science tells us the stars we see are dead anyway
you can keep that metaphor

I know falling apart is just

one of those easy things,

but I guess I was really

hoping it would have been

harder than it looked.
I must look so put together.

I mean, that has to be

why I shift inside and outside

of wide shadowed rooms,

it’s like the shadows are not

ever dark enough to make me

want to stay.

I still cry during corny movies

because I wish things really

did fall together like that.

I wish my bones weren’t

made from glass.
They’ll never ask about

the cavities in your teeth

but you’re still making sure

they know about how you brush

2 times a day (sometimes 3) and then

you floss until your gums are sore

but you always leave out the part
where you grind your back molars too much

whenever you try to sleep.

The dentist told you it was totally normal

but soon they’re crumbling and you think:

No, not so normal.
The days when I smile, I look sad

and the days when I cry, I look happy.
It’s like I’m all muddled together

from trying to switch the gears

too fast.

I revved my engine

until I couldn’t even roar anymore.
Falling apart was just 
too easy to ever
try to make it hard

and some girl in my science class

keeps saying something

about the tragedies being art

but this isn’t poetic

or pretty,

how could it be

when falling apart should never

come this easy?

Dear, when June kisses me Hello
the way you never did

and the temperature outside
hits one hundred and five,
I will think of the way I’m feeling
right now to cool myself down.

Because not since last year
have I felt so deeply chilled.

My bones are made of ice,
my eyes are snow, my heart
needs thawing. And if you don’t
warm it, oh well,

I’ll just stay frozen solid
till I drop dead and melt in hell.

They think I’m mad, I’m
crazy broken, but they just don’t know
what it’s like when someone
so wonderful has you hoping.

Even when my hopes
are defeated,

shot down
after flying so high,
I’ll force myself
to keep believing.