a few clumpy eye lashes glued by tears to a faded pillow
a book hanging halfway off of the dresser,
page 12
a water spotted wine glass with a faded purple stain
this is what heartbreak looks like

Here are some things I know:
2+2 is always 4, in the center of an apple lies the core.
One foot is left and the other is right, you need lots of wind to fly a kite.
Puppies are soft and the earth moves slow, red means stop and green means go.
Clouds are white, the sky is blue, and I am absolutely, completely, in love with you.

I'm happy, you're happy, but I'm sad, it's with her.

My mom thinks it's a cold, but really I'm just missing you.

Loving you feels a lot like drowning
My lungs constantly searching for the air you used to breath down my throat.
I don't know whether to inhale or hold my breath;
I guess it doesn't really matter, they both hurt the same.
I've been wondering what the easiest way to die would be.
I don't really care anymore, without you, I'm dead anyways.

I don't think you'll ever understand how much you hurt me. You will never know what it's like to be stared straight in the face & be told you aren't loved. You will never know what it's like to be lied to & pushed down & fooled & made into a joke. You will never know what it's like to be so incredibly invested into someone who makes you hang on for dear life. You will never know what it's like to dedicate all of your time & effort & strength into someone who is just going to take everything from you & let you go. You will never know what it's like to still be in love with someone who once made you feel so small. You will never know. But I do. I wasted skin & blood & life on someone who could never love me like I needed. Your lies filled the cracks in my chest. You drained me of all happiness & love & sanity. Now I am just waiting to be stitched back together.

i remember how
you used to trace
my freckles with
the tip of your
index finger.
it was as if each
spot on the bridge
of my nose, set your
hands on fire.
it was okay though
because i have eyes
just like the ocean.
you always had a
place to cool off.
i guess you eventually
realized you rather
just stay inside.

i dont want to write any more because everytime i go to put my ******* pen to paper all i manage to scribble is your name. you some how managed to break down the walls surrounding my heart and take up the remaining space in my chest. you planted flowers in my ribcage but flowers die and so do people. "forever and always" is just something you said to fill the silence and i was an idiot for thinking this time was different. i kissed you like your mouth was filled with stars and every time you touched me after you left, those flowers died a little and so did i.

If money could talk, the one dollar bill would tell us about shaky hands & white powder, about long thick fingernails & hopeless desperation. He would laugh when he remembered all of the tight waist bands, oily skin, & how the men would cheer as he danced in circles.

If money could talk, The ten dollar bill would shed a tear when he recalled the single mother of four, who handed him over for a cheap, too greasy, dinner in a bag. He would slam his fist on the counter as he begged the troubled boy, too young to be this sad, to put down that needle, it's not over yet.

If money could talk, the penny would tell stories between tears. Stories that he observed from the floor, a story for young girls too blinded by what they "need to look like" to take a look in the ******* mirror, for every boy, who drags sharp metal across his skin just to feel like he's wanted, for every father, who has scraped the bottom of the coffee can for enough coins to buy that bottle, for mothers, who no longer know what to say.

If money could talk, the penny would also smile. He would smile for better days, for long nights sitting in a dark box soon to be donated to those in need. He would smile for every scratch off ticket he has ever won, he would smile, as he shook his head at those who think it's over. He would smile at you, at me.

So many songs remind me of you that I can't listen to the radio anymore in fear that every song that comes on will sound like its pouring out of your mouth. My mother saw that all of my nails were chewed off. She had a sad look in her eyes. I guess it's because she knows I only do it when I'm sad. She never could figure out what it was I saw in you. No one could really. Maybe it’s because you always smelled like smoke and bit your lips until they bled.  But behind your green eyes I saw galaxies. I saw a place far away. I guess every time we kissed I ran a little farther from home. You were my escape from reality but now the pain is realer than ever. I guess what I'm saying is you shouldn't build homes out of people because bones break and hearts come spilling out and when they said you would ruin me, oh did they mean it.

You were an exquisite boy, or so I thought. You looked past normalcy in individuals & dug around in their chests for something to cling to. I saw a light in you. I'm guessing because you came from a far off place. A place I hadn't known to be tainted & hollow. I looked to you for answers. Answers you didn't have. I looked to you for safety. And a safe place, you weren't. Nights were spent indulging in music I had never heard, & sewing my skin back together in rows. It's hard to let go of the one who reminded you to drink. But eventually you just left me to dehydrate. It's for the better, I know. It was self destruction honestly. & although I no longer romanticize this silence, I will always love the boy who loved me when I was sad.

My mouth is bleeding.
Your sharp tongue is cutting the roof of my mouth; right behind my teeth where you spell my name. One letter at a time. My teeth are breaking but i've never been afraid of blood.
Not even when I coughed up handfuls into my mothers baby blue lemonade pitcher.
Not even then.

our love...
exists.
our love exists,
behind closed doors,
behind four walls
that push up against my lungs
squeezing until I suffocate.
our love exists while you
stand there and stare,
open mouthed
unable to accept
the fact that you denied
a delicate butterfly
the right to take off
that you set fire to a field
of tulips that were begging
for new fallen rain.
you touch me with electricity,
but i am used to this burn.
i am used to this broken feeling;
the feeling after your wings have been
plucked off
and every last layer of skin
has been set on
fire.

i dId handstands until my knees Were purple but It stilL wasn't enough for you. no matter what i did i could not make you stay. i wanted you to Love me so ******* bAdly i really really did but my mother told me to never make another human being my worLd, so i am sending you aWay with the wind And the sea. goodbYe, i am so Sorry i couldn't fit your perfect Little mold. i tried, gOd i tried. i know my hair is Very messy and i have little purplE scars up my arms and im sorry they were things You found beautiful until you didn’t. its you, its always been you, and i am so afraid that it's always going to be you. sO this is goodbye, even thoUgh your name will always be etched into my ribcage and the smell of coffee will always bring me back to mornings in your arms.

it is 3 o'clock
and the night is deep.
we are a solar eclipse
and I am your moon.
you pull me close and then
even closer
just to be sure I stay warm.
even the stars are jealous
of the way we sleep
and planets lean in to smile.
space doesn't seem
as big as it did
once compared to
my love for you.

I cling to hope like a newborn baby clings to his mother. We were all new once. There was a time in all of our lives when we didn't know that hundreds of little girls in Africa are missing. We didn't know what a bruise was much less how they got around our loved ones necks. There was a time when color was only a figment of the mind. A time when words didn't cut like glass. Our planet is crying for help. The world is 71% water but our people are thirsty. We punish our children when they use violence as the answer but have no problem sending their daddies to war. We tell grieving teenagers that they don't know what love is, but at what point do they make that transition? We blame those that go hungry on their lack of job, but make it impossible to afford the skills to get one. There is a problem. When money can rip families to shreds. When the remains of their love is scattered on the side walk, while a stack of paper grins at its control. When boys grow up in the light of a struggling single mom yet let their daughters grow up the same way. When religion is no longer about love or acceptance. When sexuality will **** you to hell, but ****** will receive forgiveness if asked. He had a dream, that our white brothers and our black brothers would come together as equal brothers. I have a dream that women will receive the same treatment as white men, and that black men will receive the same treatment as women and color will only matter when celebrating our cultures. I have a dream, that the world will no longer be thirsty.

I just took a bath so hot that I could see little swirls of steam rise off of my body. I was hoping that every kiss, finger print, and cell that you ever left on my skin would burn off and slide down the drain. I don't really mind that my fingernail polish is almost always chipped & I don't really mind my hair being in knots. What really bothers me is the fact that I am still thinking about you.

i can feel my heart beat in my ears

She was big blue eyes & tangled hair & pulling me everywhere she went. I was happy though. I'm not complaining. Everything was an adventure with her. She liked flowers more than jewelry so birthdays were always easy. & her favorite thing to do  was explore. We spent more time in abandoned buildings than we did on actual dates. The freckles that were sprinkled across her nose showed up best in the sunlight. I always thought she looked prettiest like that. Concentrating with that nose all crinkled up, her knotted hair blowing in the wind. She was always chewing on her right thumbnail. It was always the right hand. I don't really know why she chose that finger, but I think it says a lot about her. It's sad that this is only a memory, but then again it's not. Now whenever I'm asked what beautiful is, I won't have to struggle for an answer.

there was a boy with a racecar bed who never liked vanilla, but chocolate instead.

there was a boy who liked to climb trees, who watched cartoons, & ate his peas.

there was a boy who liked to run fast, who was too fearless, who was never in last.

there was a boy with big blue eyes, who liked reading books, & stormy skies.

there was a boy with long brown hair, with a piercing here & pink scar there.

there was a boy with cigarette breath, who liked fast cars, & wrote about death.


there was a boy with a deep glassy stare, who cried at night, because life isn't fair.

I can't sleep.
I feel numb.
Like there are millions of little bugs crawling over my skin.
Each whispering
'I don't love you.'

if people were made of glass i would be the expensive vase sitting in your grandma's dining room. the white one with the tiny gold flakes. the one you accidentally knock over when you're thinking of only yourself. the one that now lays in pieces at your feet, too broken to be glued back together.

EVERY TIME YOU KISS ME AND YOUR MOUTH TASTES LIKE ALCOHOL I DIE A LITTLE INSIDE. ITS PROBABLY BECAUSE MY FATHER USED TO TELL ME HE LOVED ME AND HIS BREATH SMELLED EXACTLY LIKE YOURS. LIKE A MIXTURE OF I MISS YOU AND I HATE YOU AND WHY THE **** ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US