i need you to need me

I want to say I'm an unopened novel on your bookshelf,
but that would mean I'm the Harry Potter series
(if I remember correctly)
and I might be, I wouldn't know -I've never read them,
but I've been in your hands enough to be a bit worn,
and there could've been so many chapters of us
if you had just opened the first book.

I'm an encyclopedia of a subject
you never got interested enough to read;
so much information, so much to learn
but my cover is plain, and my words are complicated
and there's magazines on your brother's dresser
of beautiful girls and little words,
so why would you ever waste time on me?

But I'm a wine-box full of scripted letters never sent,
and you're downing liquor as if to forget something,
and I hope you never try to forget me.

I wish you downed me like you did of that bottle,
but like old-wine, my cork was tight
and you didn't have the patience to open me.
Old wine has more flavour,
at the surface I'm sober;
at the core, I'm drunk.

We could've fallen in love
if we had taken the time to learn each-other;
but we started as strangers, and ended as strangers,
except now I'm left collecting dust on my own shelf.

I've been writing letters to a stranger
I swear I could have loved.

(NJ2014) (© All Rights Reserved)

your eyes
just like crystals
they shone with such beauty
that little glimmer in your eyes
when you smile
is magic
i miss being the magician
who brought that glimmer

your lips
were a shade of red
just like wine
and i was ready to get drunk
on them
after being sober ever since
you left

your dimples
are so deep
it was almost as if they had
a treasure buried beneath them
a treasure which is only known
when you're smiling
i miss being that treasure


who knew how all your imperfections
joined together can create something so beautiful
you were almost like a constellation
a bunch of stars lined together
messy but magnificent

all your cigarettes
there's smoke in your soul
i swear you're asking for death
(more than the rest of us)
I have words inked in my bloodstream
you have them inked on your skin
you're WALKING ART babe but
art doesn't die

The only writing advice you will ever need: “Be bold. Read much. Write much. Publish little. Keep aloof from the little wits and fear nothing.” – Edgar Allan Poe

Do me a favor
and devour me whole.
I'm so sick
of being torn apart
from the inside out,
but you're in my ******* veins.
You're consuming
my every thought
and eating me alive.
Please
destroy me.

For once
it's my heart that's the loud one
instead of my head.
It's pounding on the walls of my chest,
threatening to snap my ribs
every time you look at me.
I might have to let you rip it out
just to show me
how it feels
to have silence.

Teach me to
swim
in the
sound-waves
of your voice.