I.
We’re always waiting
for ghosts, even as
we hide from them.

We are stars
burning ourselves
out, wishing that
things turned
out a bit different.
.
II.
But now you’re so far
away;

like dawn from moon,
we sleep in different
lights, even as we
both live on the moon.

III.
We are mirrors at
midnight;

(Why are we so empty?)

I look into your eyes
and feel what
I’ve felt for eons.

IV.
Everything falls,
and I know you’re empty.
Let one more in before
you say “farewell.”

If all else fails,
and I’m still empty
I’d still fall in love,
even if it meant that you
might not be mine.

in my nightmares you sport black shirts with the collars rolled up and red sleeves for misunderstood stories. i have silver chains and a purple heart because of swallowed rocks and sold out moons that melt when the galaxies start exploding. at 2:47am we went out for coffee at that cheap gas station store and left the cliffs to the colours of an April sunrise. "the bird's eye still doesn't see everything" you said, and its stamped on my cheekbones. every time red blooms through the sky i see roadmaps to Windsor where those playground swings still reach for more of our memories but eventually they get burned down too

For Theresa. Rest in peace.*

Every star shines on you
Tonight.

Polaris, the North Star,
Will be your guide,

Reflecting your aura
In the smile

Of the Atlantic’s waves.
The silent forest

Looks to the skies
Where Ursa Major twinkles back

The light held in your eyes.
Sleeping bruins dream

About ice and glowing
Blues and greens

Dancing above;
The Northern Lights.

Every star will shine on you
Tonight.

The North Star, Polaris,
Will be your guide.

sometimes music plays from my walls at night and that's okay

sometimes at 3am i hear a man's voice coming from the living room and then my dog starts barking but i don't question it

that's okay too

i've watched so many horror movies & read so many stories that when i'm scared i just think "if i'm meant to die, i will"

don't be scared because whatever's supposed to happen will happen whether you like it or not

I am the wick in your paraffin.
Watch me burn as you melt away.
At least I can keep you warm
while I'm around.

I have made you soft,
But you've made me hot
And then cold.

You have made me brighter,
But I've made you young,
And then old.

So, you the wax,
And I the wick,
Can rest and cool,
Now that we are unlit.

I was the wick in your paraffin,
Watch me fade as you melt away.
At least I had kept us warm
While I was around.

i do not have a home.
i do not live in the one you imagined for us -
no condominium or house, just a basement apartment,
rented each month for nine hundred and fifty dollars,
filled with furniture and memories that don't belong to me
and two tiny windows that make it all seem fine,
like, someday, i'll graduate and move onto better,
bigger and better things that i am currently
working my *** off for - only hoping i don't regret it.
this basement apartment (if you can even call it that)
is cold and lonely and nothing like how i wish to be.

home isn't a person or a place,
it is just an illusion people have created
to feel happy and safe and at peace with the world.
home does not exist for me.

I refuse to believe
That a green piece of paper
Holds more value than any life.

I refuse to believe
That love should be limited
To one template or tradition.

And I refuse to follow
A set of rules developed
By a man no different than me.

"I was perfectly fine with wasting my time on you."