i bet you don't write anymore.
and if you do i'll never read it.
i was sick and sad and i ruined everything.
you'd be surprised at what i still remember.

i romanticize who you were and where i've been.
god knows love sure as hell isn't what we thought it was.
for too long, i was young and stupid.
back when your hands were still in my hair.
i swept everything beneath the rug, for years it sits, hidden,
soaking into the floor.
when i speak of you now, "an old lover, a friend"
those pieces of december have long slipped from my hands.

your eyes were so god ****** beautiful
and i was a beast and a *****.
you were my eve, but i took the apple and gave it to the snake.

the world was mine. the whole wide world.
alone with your smile. me and you in your room listening to every song we'd ever loved.
you were my best friend then. but things got messy and i got lost.
a lot of words i wanted to take back, i couldn't.
tasting blood for years. biting back what i wanted. what my heart forgot.
loving you felt like jumping from the 4th floor balcony. broken but
i'll be alright.
"you are nothing without her" echoed loud and often.
i plugged my ears, your face won't leave. can i ever wipe this clean?

i stood by the shore
looking out into the sky
birds flying, clouds rushing past
and then i saw you
struggling, falling
your arms flailing, your wings burning
i ran out into the water and reached for you
your lifeless body floated toward me
the waves washing over you
your lungs filled with salt and sand,
wax fused with skin and bone.

i carried you back to land and closed your eyes.
Apollo's great sun now setting, glowing gold upon your face.
i cried, and whispered, "you made it.
those walls are no longer your home."

I was having an out of body experience last week and I asked Barbara to fetch me a glass of water and she fainted. She said that my lips were colorless and that she saw this bright light shining above me. I don't know too much about all that, but I might guess that I was dead for a minute or so. How can you ever be sure though?

I met Barbara back when I lived on 5th street and we were both into a lot of experimental drugs. It was a dark time. I feel like she's alright, you know? I've grown rather fond of her, anyway. She says she's been sober for a couple of years now. I guess she could've made the whole "out of body" thing up, but I remember feeling really off later that night. I didn't sleep for two days.

On Saturday we dropped acid for the first time in a long time and watched Nosferatu in the loft. I've felt partially responsible for her abandoning her sobriety. Lately it feels like I've been losing time. There are hours that I can't account for. That could all be in my head though.

the child forever still. motionless beneath the white moon. his tears formed the seas. otherworldly, spinning thread around the smallest finger. winding and winding, silver linings break apart. pieces of a life fall to the ground. cradled by the wind. carried over the earth and into the skies.

"you have always stood here, dreaming my whole world. i've sent word on the backs of sparrows. the lord of lonely, all you have written i would have erased.
born from dust and pushed to earth, i remember the stars like it were only yesterday.

can you help me make it home?"

the ground shrouded in white. the trees bare. the sun hidden.
i pleaded for Persephone to return.

I met a man once who told me that the soul is split into three parts.

the first, the beauty you carry on your face and in your flesh. eyes as blue as a cloudless winter. every freckled shoulder, every broken bone. the look on your face when you know you're finally home. that crooked smile, running arms outstretched toward the river. dancing in the rain.

the second, the voice with which to sing. every word spoken in love. the lies you tell. the regret stuck in your throat. and then screaming out to stay, when it's the last second of the last day.

the third, the season that brings you in.
how the sun falls on your face and that shiver from the bitter cold. the piece you can't control. the heart pumping blood. the brain's wires crossed. the longing for death. the infatuation with living, breathing. your fate to feel, to love, to hate, to fear.
life's arms open to receive you and death waits to keep you.