In the mirror I glimpsed
Scars upon my skin and
They serve as a painful reminder that
You will never love me again

Fingers like bones morph to my chin,
Tilt it always back toward the land,
Whenever I float to the sea.
I envy the sky for it hears the sound of your laugh.
I imagine it like the stars;
Bright and unique,
Probably shining.
Please dance through my eardrums;
Sing songs of protection and loyalty.
I wonder if you were a lovely liar,
Or maybe even a poet.
I hope you'd be proud;
I ran from the smoke,
coughed the cloud from my lungs.
It lingered above until it ran out of rain,
Like tears on the crescent moon of my cheeks.
The blood we share flows faster then his temper,
And hotter then her lips,
But I swear to God I feel you somewhere,
Disguised as my rib cage,
You hold me up,
Keep me centered.
For me and you I swear,
Ill chase the stars till sunrise,
And light candles in corners forgotten.
Your room is yellow,
Flowers bloom in the floor boards,
Signs of you all around.
I lay my head where you once placed yours and think;
Did you even like yellow?
The palm of my hand is a map to your core.
Ill shrink to a vein within myself and slide straight to you.
The problem is picking which path of three will land me back to a face like my own.
Hold the matches,
Kiss every tomb,
Saturate my eye lids,
show my blood to me.

The walls were blue or
Maybe, grey and
Your eyes were brown
Your hair, the same
The music so soft
An echo in my mind
The hours drifted slowly
The worst passage of time

My voice, once sure
Now hesitant and shy
My heart, once pure
Now broken and dying
In the moonlight through the window
You looked at me like a ghost
As you told me, so cruelly
I was not the man you loved the most

Smoke filled my lungs
As we sat on the porch
Swinging back and forth
In silence, neither of us daring
To break the silence
That hung between us like a curtain
Because if one of us spoke
Reality would come rushing back
And we would be reminded that
Life is pain
With every passing moment
Bringing us closer to our
Death
And though this seemed eternal
Our night together
Was doomed to die

You kissed away the scratches,
turned them into rose petals.

You're so beautiful with the red full lips
         big curly dark hair  
                 pale white skin
how you say things
that you read from your favorite book
how you stare
                and admire
the moon when it shines in the dark

But why is it that
I can't just concentrate
at those perfect details anymore
But concentrate deeply
at those rigid wrists of yours
notice perfectly
how every horizontal cut is slowly
stopped at the end
because you were too scared to mark
another secret  

I always wonder what happened
to such a beautiful girl?
what is your story?
why is it that you grab a blade
to make gaps on your wrists
to print scars on your skin for a life time?

and I always wonder
that if you knew about
how much I thought of you

if you would stop

j.f

It's 7:41 on a Thursday,
she's away at school,
her feet aren't in the country,
she would say I warned you
and he would change the subject.
He can't be bothered,
and he who would move mountains
can't know how high they perch.
He's too high to notice,
and I gave her up to impatience months ago,
trading beer for cigarettes,
even though smoking kills.
He would cry victim,
and be right all along,
while she would smirk silently
and whisper
what goes around comes around.

It's 7:46 on a Thursday,
and your lips are far from mine
but in my mind,
still.
Still there, filled with words like
now
and
trust me, it'll start to feel good soon.

Still there, singing Iron and Wine
with too much soul and not enough rasp.

Still there, chapped and peeling,
blowing smoke in my eyes so I can't quite see.

Still there, asking for another hit,
and apologizing because you hit too hard,
but hit the **** again
because we both know what you really mean
when tension is fire and your fists are the savior
So go for it,
hit again
maybe this time I'll bleed enough for you to notice.

Notice,
notice.

The mix tape I left you has love written all over it,
literally.
Is the birthday card still on your dresser?
Ironic.
My dresser,
your dresser,
your fist,
my nails.
We all seem to have something in common here,
maybe none of us know how
or when
to stop.

Stop.
hit,
ignore,
light up,
fall down,
get high again,
bend over,
trapped under...
this time the answer is

**no.

Time is
Strange
It flows so
Uneven
With days-weeks-months flying by
While seconds
Minutes
Hours
Crawl past
Every heart beat a drawn out affair
Every blink of the eye lasting ages
Until suddenly you're jolted forward
And you're old
And everyone else is too
And you're left to wonder
Where all the time
Went

The scars will never
Fade away completely
Every time I look down I will be
Reminded of those awful days
When I was completely
Alone
With nobody
By my side
Guiding me through
Those nights oh so
Cold