I jump and curse at the sound of my name
Because when I was younger it was beaten into my skinny bones.

My first name became the sound of my father's fist on a wooden door,
My middle name the sound of papers crackling in a fire,
My last name the regrets of generations of men.

What's in a name
Until it has rolled off your tongue
Like the rustle of leaves in the brisk wind?

Cacophonous waves washing over me
White teeth exposed
The folded skin framing your blue eyes
Your laughter is for me
And for that I am honoured
But I'm finally old enough to know
That it isn't a code

You say the most flirtatious things to me
As if you don't know
That each one feels like a stab in the chest
And that the closer you move your chair to me
The farther away I want to be
To keep you away from my vulnerability

Never tell me you care
For I may just disappear completely.

Loneliness is a hunger
That eats at my hands
At the vacant spaces between my fingers
Devouring the place on my chest
Reserved for your cheek

It mocks
As it consumes

And I'm left
Empty enough to echo

It's so easy
To slice through those
Writs of yours;
It's so easy
To make an excuse
Not to eat;
It's so easy
To smoke yourself
To death;
It's so easy
To open your mouth
And purge your problems away;
But it's so hard
To open your mouth
And speak

Stop trying to remember his scent, he smelled like summer and reminds you of the time he made you laugh so hard, you snorted out milk on that dead, hazy day.

2. Don't waste your day trying to decipher what colour his eyes were, it'll only remind you of the galaxies and constellations that you once saw in his eyes

3. Stop trying to retrace the shape of his mouth in the middle of the night, you'll choke on your tongue trying to taste the mint he devoured seconds before pulling you in for a kiss

4. Stop reliving the times you clasped hands together, the glass plate will fall off your trembling hands.

5. Burn this list, admit that the galaxies and constellations shining in his eyes were wilted, the one in yours are bursting with fire. Remember on the dead, hazy day his laugh sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Remember when you kissed, the weeds growing from his mouth entangled the roses blooming in yours.

Realize that one day, another boy is going to come and plant daisies where he left behind thorns.

When you think your grandma is now at heaven,
do you wish you were a star?
I mean, how come someone doesn't wish they were a star?

When you think your mother still misses your dead father,
do you wish you were a star?
Do you wish you would keep shining even if you exploded?

When you think of your girlfriend who is now married,
do you wish you were a star?
Do you wish you were now dead? Do you? Do you?

This was not love making.
This was sin
and the devil victoriously
danced between the sheets.