you, my love, resemble rain

sporadic and full of deadly potential

a downpour of passion or a sprinkle of melancholy tendencies

yet somehow calming and innocent

humbling in the purest form

and terror at its darkest

we lie together in a hammock of broken promises and empty compliments
and I wish I could say that your hollow heart beat in the same rhythm it used to
the most it does is break me down in the worst way
but all I want to do is watch you hurt as much as I did
and then stitch you back together
out of habit


do you still dream like you used to?

you single-handedly crushed my big world into a tiny ball and opened it up and called it art.
and I believed you.
because you could tell me that the sky is actually green and clouds are made of tiny people and that trees whisper amongst one another and I'd believe every word.
and that's all well and good and all but that means I have to believe you when you say you love her


and **** does that sting

as much as I've grown used to hating myself

I sure wish I didn't

and I sure wish you didn't know that I'm a sucker for anything acoustic

and that alcohol makes me giggly

and that I sleep on my side and whimper when I have bad dreams

and that my burning desire is to get the hell out of this town

and I sure wish I didn't ever love you

i'm a walking denial with a fickle heart and mangled bones and you're a broken boy with a passion for getting hurt and a longing to be loved
and I don't want to sit here and promise the world when I can only deliver a ******* speck but I swear on everything I've ever loved, on everything I've ever believed in that I will make you feel whole again no matter what it takes.

I want the stars to whisper to me without words all the things they've seen and heard and follow me everywhere I go.

Little gossiping flickers all buzzing about my head.

When the stars are with me every step I take I'm never alone.

And if I can't see them through the fiery haze of the daylight I know they are still there, only unseen, and I'll be able to whisper endless conversations with them without uttering a single word when night falls back down like the curtains on an unrehearsed play.

I would wait through the longest melodrama like the protagonist whose soliloquy was left backstage with his courage knowing the stars are waiting to discuss all that has happened while we couldn't converse.

As they go on and on about how delightful you were at tea that day I'm so caught up in watching you sleep soundly, tucked in a blanket of black night air, that their babbling all becomes twinkling white noise.

My feet carry me toward your sleeping state on their own accord; my hands scattering the whispering stars like the brooms of cleaning housewives. I stand over you in awe and your sleeping eyes drift open to mine.

My eyes witness a new night sky flowing from yours and the existence that once held so tightly to the solid ground it found in the every-day night sky has taken flight into a new galaxy

you told me that I resembled the battered, cracked baseboard
that ran along your concrete room
clearly suffering years of irrational abuse, and torment,
a foundational error maybe,
and chipped paint.

i can't say that I disagree.

but i can tell you that me and this baseboard share a lot in common

you see we both started out with a simple purpose,
sit still and do our job.
granted, my foundational friend had it slightly easier,
but only due to the that fact that you only kicked the baseboard accidentally;
in a drunken stumble or a game of indoor soccer.
I, on the other hand, was bruised and chipped away on purpose.

whether i said the wrong thing, or laughed too long, or wore the dress that you didn't like--

as if it mattered

you rattled my mangled bones with your lion heart and wanton ways,
my lips, red raw and quivering

you shook away any doubt of my worth
and smiled at the inflicted galaxies on my skin
you always saw yourself as a god

you watched the rustic liquid trickle down my thighs
from your own incisions
on my already scarred hips
and I almost felt beautiful

you ripped apart my innocence
and drowned out my screams with bad music with nasally singer and repetitive melodies

I thought I at least deserved better than ****** music

despite your absence I still sit
in concrete rooms
with cracked baseboards
and caving ceilings
because that's where I feel at home

among the broken and the abandoned,

among the walls that soaked up as many terror stories as me

among irreparable damage

and oddly enough i want to thank you
because now i have a home
within the vacancy