flashback and I'm pulling at your heart strings and you beg for me to be tangled with you
it's innocence of our first kiss and promised everyone it's true
it's a bright afternoon but you swore to me im the only one that shines
and I'm not walking in a straight line but you promise everything is fine
the words you speak sound foreign to me and I won't believe a single character
I've been hurt so this is not new but I thought you were fresh air
the air is fresh and so are we and I can't think of better possibilities
but there's calm before the storm and I've never been one for tranquillity
opened doors and warmth in your look I feel safe with every breath that we took
but safety can only go so far and I caught glance of your wondering look
now it's doubled over pain from something not physical
and I can't seem to understand how someone full of love can be so cold
now it's coming back and trying to fix the crack but crazy glue is just a scam
searching and scanning for anything like a plan
I've never liked the plans you seemed to adore and that's were we fell through
because artificial blood can't replenish everything I lost for you
present day and were both alone with another breathing being and it's not you
we get better and worse with every old verse of songs I would sing to you
you're living now but I feel so dead from all the things that you've done
my favorite flower dies with the wind just as soon as you're gone

as if burning liquor was not enough, you used the sun to destroy me

as if you forgot it was the hottest weapon we could understand, there you sat me

as if you didn’t recall I was terrified of each shadow that it created 

as if it would be easier to drown me in the dark
as if you knew the light would be too much for me to handle

as if you forgot I was much stronger than that 
as if you knew the struggle would be more punishing than the victory 

as if burning liquor was not enough, you used the sun to destroy me 

a.m

Because the truth comes out when you sit there
Wrapped up in your blanket
Staring at your screen talking about what once was
Because at 1:43am you don't worry about what's going on tomorrow
Or what happened yesterday
At 1:43 am you remember what it use to be like
You remember what you seem to crave
And the feeling comes back
And you try to push it away
But at 1:43am feelings don't get pushed away
They become remembered memories
And they swallow you whole
They take you back to places you've tired so hard to forget
Holes you've dug yourself out of
But at 1:43am you find way to fall back into that hole
And you're trapped
Because  at 1:43 am you're to weak to dig yourself out again
And 1:43am is where it begins
a.m.

not able to think
but able to write
because my fingers are working
while my brain is sleeping
but "your brain never stops"
that's what I thought
until my mind went blank
and my hands didn't stop
adapting a mind of their own
contantly writing
without thinking
because my mind is numb
and I am dead
but my hands are alive
typing and writing
not sure where my mind went
but my hands
they're telling my story
without  my consent
without my consciousness
without a breath between words
or thoughts
because my thoughts are gone
and now belong to my hands
and I am gone
but I still stand
with my body numb
and my mind blank
while my hands carry on

my green eyes grow blue now that you're not around

There are days when my emotions
are a small gear being turned
in my brain by a small man
with quick ideas and a sole
purpose to manufacture
he goes away when
rage comes to stay,
the only true connection to
my nervous system
the most familiar face
I finally spoke to it out loud
I never learned love
without pain or sacrifice

I picture the small man
going on vacations
these days I feel
and feel and feel
I am convinced this is the
true nature of how
my brains favorite number is 2
always loving both extremes
boys who are mean and
girls that just do not need me
as much
as men need me
to be sweet and fill their shoes
all shoulder and still
nothing to cry on

Sit there silent but you want to scream
you're pouring your drink past the brim and it's bound to spill
you spill more than you poured ending up more than empty
you tried to keep the lid on for too long
And now you're bad you're going worse than ever
And you're leaking
a never ending dripping sensation of emptiness
But how can you be empty when you're dripping of a feeling worse than emptiness itself

Finding the beauty
in a
lonely
exit sign
Taking me
Pulling me
With
Soft
Sweet
Words
Spoken through
The road

black chipped nail polish
first time regrets
didn't give a ****
I was sharing your breath
tears are not clear
when they're stained on your skin
permanent scratches
only seen from within
deep ******* love poems
tore them to shreds
burnt your stupid finger prints
off of my bed

two lovers roam the city of steel and brick, lights flash each time he gently squeezes her hand
they are the heart of the city, pumping blood though the circulatory streets
one lonely lover watches the lights change out of the glass eyes from her apartment, cradled in blankets and detox tea, she is the skin of the city she feels each step the lovers take in every layer of herself
she is burned by the flick of lipstick stained cigarette love songs
she falls asleep that night to the same songs that **** them
a.m

Sometimes I wish the monsters underneath my  bed
would come out and creep and crawl
and scare away the monsters in my head
Because sharp teeth and horns
are nothing compared to my thoughts
a.m.

You are nothing short of a fantasy.
The motion pictures in my head are jealous they do not get to call you mine like I do, because the horror in my dreams weep with the thought that it does not have fingers to intertwine with yours. Any vine intertwined without you in the woods is unworthy of growing, because you are every source of light there could possibly be in this world. Try to convince me you do not create the axis this world spins on, and I will not believe you, because you are the foundation to my home of a heart that I have longed to build with you.

I look for you in his blanket stares
easily glancing past his flesh hungry fangs
tonight I'm not food
I can't be

it is mid July but I am shivering from December's past
holding onto subtle soft gazes
as if they weren't just accidents
as if they weren't the moment before a blink
when you're really not forming an emotion
I hold on to those as if after the blink your eyes are not ravenous
to me those are December eyes
to me those are not his eyes
I beg for them to be your eyes
soft even when they're wide open

but it is warm and his eyes are sharp
and I am the effortless hunt
I wandered, wounded to his doorstep
and although he was still full from dinner
I became a routine late night snack

a.m

she let out a sigh that lingered through the air & shattered the atmosphere like broken glass*
a.m.

I’m sweet for you
boy covered in red and green, brand new
I’m sweet for you
even when I’m not
even when it’s true that I’m blue
I’m better because I’m sweet for you
sugary taste for you
even if I tell myself it’s not true
I’m sweet for you, through and through
I just wish it wasn’t you
because I don’t know how to be sweet too (like you)
a.m.

Tell me baby do you love her
Because let go of my hand if you do
Don't tell me baby that you love me
Because I can see it in your eyes, I lost you
a.m.

When I see a new face I take their look
Their expression
Their posture
Their eyes
& use them to write a story
Creating a life in which I think they live
While my mind wanders, contemplating their experiences I make up for them
The second  hardest part is not knowing if I am ever close
If I tell their story correctly
If I read their eyes right
Read their look right
The hardest part is not knowing if
Their look or expression is in all reality a cry for help
A cry hoping that only a wandering mind can save them

When your own soul gives up on you,
you know there's truly no one left
Some will describe it as empty,
I describe it like a tree in the fall time
The tree has leaves, and the leaves are a part of the tree
Now slowly the tree loses their leaves no matter how hard it might try to hold on
One bye one or two by two, a leaf falls,
and that tree loses what makes it, what it is
The only difference between a tree and its leaves,
and a body and it's soul
is that the tree can grow its leaves back
once your body has emptied its soul, it is lost
You are lost
a.m.

Wake up alone
Bed is cold
Heart is cold
Smile is gone
Hope is gone
I am cold
And you are gone

missing you is like being addicted to drugs but the kind of addiction that starts off in the hospital
with every intention to heal
the one that leaves you to sleep with your cold sweats and cravings
having you and then having to miss you was the same kind of addiction that will keep getting you high until it kills you
— take one pill by mouth until the bottle grows legs and leaves you

a.m

easy breathing
you are the wind
sleeping lightly
                               i feel lightly
                               it looks lightly
                               you look lightly
at me
i am the wind
                          you are the wind
          we are breathing easily
early morning happy
waking up lightly  
                               slightly dazed
but still smiling

now begins the sensory portion of this practice, create a picture in your head of each item listed within the series

pine tree

breathe in
we are decorating the 3 foot tree we rescused from a goodwill store near our home
breathe out
some of the lights don't work but it never bothered you much, you just loved that it was ours
breathe in
we keep the lights on because you like the shadows they make on the walls at night
breathe out
I stay awake all night looking at the broken lights
breathe in
you find a way to fix the lights but it is only temporary and soon they fade
breathe out
i don't know how or why but I can feel the lights become dimmer each day
breathe in
you say the dim lights give good contrast to the room
breathe out
I hate those ******* lights
breathe in
breathe out

I don't hear any other words from the instructor
For the remainder of the practice I am in our bed, staring at the broken lights

this now concludes this session begin to return your breath to it's natural state and  reconnect with the scene around you

Don't forget to tell me your favorite song
because that's the last part of you I can hold on to
& when you walk on for good
I hope you know I'll walk the isle
& I'll walk off that cliff
to your favorite song

I was lost in a storm of emotion  feeding my corrupted thoughts with shouts and shreaks of reality i've been hiding from for so long*
a.m.

******* at the funeral
poison women aching in their parallel
they drink until Juliet is dead
or until in their head too
it is clear
free of fear and recalling
this was always supposed to be a tragedy
______________

no left or right turn
changes that everything, even love
begins and ends with some type of poison
the slowly dripping IV type
or
a sudden break check
dash to face type of poison

the Juliets' love only exists on one page
allowed to live if the real goal
is to die
smoke breaks, goodbyes
the ever too consistent "I'll see you arounds"
that is the point of a tragedy
it gets to claim the reason for existing
and the entire existence itself

Juliet drinks the poison every night
even after the man in the hole warned me
her love feeds on the liver
while the others begin to fade out

They tell me to forget, it's not worth it
But they haven't been there
They didn't feel my heart  escape out of my chest
They tell me you're no good
But they don't know you
They don't see behind the scenes
They don't see two passionate lovers
They dont see the elongated nights when we outshine the stars
They don't see how one touch can make my skin dance to no music
They don't see because they are blind to all but the negativity
The hatred that I seem to block out
The endless nights of short breathes and wet eyes I seem to forget
So maybe I'm wrong
Maybe they are not the ones that are blind
I am

let me know when you've had your heart ripped out of your chest
but crash into the other lane where his stupid ******* lips are within a week
when ever subtle touch of something once so protective makes you squirm
make sure to tell me when your skin finds it easier to be pulled off than to be seen in a ******* mirror
then talk to me about being so in love that you can't do anything about it

Picked apart piece by piece
Until there's nothing left of me
Gun me down like the twins
Put my heart into a bin
Save it for a  broken soul
Dont tell them it's my heart you
stole
Rip me apart shred me, cut me
Just forget who I use to be
Throw that memory in the trash
Take me, break me, till I'm
smashed
Burn me, throw my ashes away
And walk all over where they lay

and the words that you read
fell onto my bed
that felt every drop of blood that I bled
when I took off the weights
I noticed scotch tape
was just what they were made by
and now the time
leaped backward and sighed
saying "Your mind made those weights not him"

with your warm eyes and crooked smile
I picture you saying "come home, we've both had a long week, your side of the bed is waiting for you"

it has been 32 long weeks with no call home but still everyday I wait for the phone to ring

The wind so calm
  Whistling
   Whispering
Passing my ears
brushing my face and tickling my nose
Taking my thoughts see where they go

It's tough when the only inspiration you thought you had, is broken too

My ears pick up a sound
Of your knees hitting the ground
My heart floats away
As I beg for your life to stay

In all reality my broken wing isn't what's keeping me from flying , it's the idea of flying in general

my hands use to ache of sorrow as if my mind couldn't quite teach them how to cry as beautifully as my eyes could

writing took a backseat the moment I recognized how strongly it made me feel something

          —I stopped mid sentence

You learn that you're not worth the goodbye he gave you
You're not even worth the tears you gave yourself
a.m.

When my heart seems to break
I see my paper gets more takes
I pour out all that empty space
&  put it in a different place
But should I trade my happiness
To change my writing for the best
Or should I take my broken smile
& maybe just wait a while
Should I hurt what I write
Or actually get some sleep at night

today to reduce the friction ,
i imagined his hands were yours
his rapid gasps as your
slow sweet melody in my ear
a song familiar yet distant

it’s like the time we spent listening to loud muffled music through closed doors
we knew all the words but all we could hear was a thudding beat
and softened lyrics
or when the living room tv played an instrumental that i twirled to
in the kitchen over coffee
distant and soft
most things with you were like that
my version of you was like that

who you are to the world is an armor
a protected identity
all present and sharp
formed from your roots
spoken through a body canvas
and select dialogue
displayed in your recreations of
what you want so desperately to be
but underneath the armor is a warm bed
a dimly lit lamp covered by a bandana
a deep belly laugh with reservations
tears and fears and everything lovely

so when they ask me “do you miss him”
i will gently answer “no”
for one simple reason that
the “him” i loved died when he gave me a last distant and soft goodbye

& right then she tore those pages out of the past & started to write again
a.m.

we meet for the first time over and over
I never left, I sit
watching movies about us on
every park bench we claimed
something about capturing a moment
before it was gone
a quote from this film that would
rock me to sleep
a soft ******/****** assault lullaby
but in between scenes of pain
she is just inbetween
twirling through the surrealism
in ethereal fields, these truly are
The Lovely Bones
before I can remember
I remember
I've been eager to heal
like her
only women and
my mary jane
can make me feel anything
it is no coincidence my favorite color has been green
since birth because
I cannot accept coincidences
instead cling to my superpower
as if its not just a defense mechanism
but as if I have not moved whole houses on my own
I refuse to believe either side
of anything

Because you shouldnt be scared when you wake up shaking in tears
You should be scared when the tears no longer flow and you're nothing but numb
a.m.

fishnet qualities
only giving a **** about *******
always plucking skin from my teeth
sewing them together
my leatherface trophy for happiness
a mask worn, disguised as lust driven love
unknowing victims
cutting their own hearts out for me
a symbol for the empty cage, the broken door, the night mine walked right out of my chest
not stolen, or given, just tired and ready to leave
I let it go, without a goodbye
put on my fishnets
and welcomed lust for dinner

they say time heals
but every day without you
a piece of me flakes off
i’m dead skin
an ***** once used for protection
now purposeless
sometimes floating through the air
sometimes intertwined in dust bunnies
but always still dead