I want to lay between
the lines of your
name,
and stay there until i hear your,
voice again.
And as the rain falls in parralel lines against the window as we take flight, i
cant help but see
creases of your soul
hidden in the spaces between
each one.

the end is within reach
close enough for me to touch
making my fingertips tingle
and my legs weaken
with the fatigue of
over-analyzation

it rips worries apart
in my already warped mind

the good becomes bad
and the bad dissipates
quickly
because i want so desperately
   to feel good
about considering the need
   for an end

but i'm held firm by chains of
cowardice
   guilt
     and a love
that just won't let go.

(she has the sea beneath her lashes and fire burns above in her eyes)

shes winter
with the eyes of autumn
little apricots burnt by fire
hidden in her skull
the song from a broken box
the light in a black wave
the flame from a broken match
you're alive,but
where are you?
you look as the soul of a century filled with crippling heartache,
baby,
you look like a question,
i am asking of you now.
answer me?
- a.m

STOP IT
STOP MAKING ME PICK UP A PEN
STOP MAKING ME THINK AGAIN
STOP MAKING ME LACE MY HANDS TOGETHER TO REVISIT HOW IT FELT TO BE YOURS
STOP MAKING ME LOVE YOU
STOP THE SALT OVER MY CHEEKS FROM BURNING HOLES IN MY SMILE
STOP DOING THIS
WHEN WILL IT STOP
9 MONTHS AND 5 DAYS
WHEN WILL YOU GO
I BEG OF YOU
ALL THIS POETRY IS PATHETIC
*******
I LOVED YOU
P L E A S E  J U S T  S T O P
stop not loving me,i need you to love me.

THE WAY IN WHICH INSECURITY MAKES A HOME OF MY BODY,
LEAVING HER PILES OF SELF-DOUBT AND ANXIETY LYING ON THE FLOOR.
AS I CONTINUE TO STUMBLE AWAY FROM MIRRORS,
TRYING TO FIND A REFLECTION SHE HAS NOT BECOME A PART OF,
SHE REVEALS TO ME,
THAT THE MIRROR DOES NOT HAVE TO BE CRACKED IN ORDER FOR ME TO LOOK BROKEN.
I ASK HER WHY SHE HAS NOT MOVED OUT ALREADY,
AND SHE SAYS IT IS NOT HER FAULT THAT I ALWAYS LEAVE THE DOORS OPEN.
I TELL HER OF HOW I MISPLACED THE KEYS IN THE HANDS OF PEOPLE WHO COULD NOT LOVE ALL THAT I AM.
AND WITHOUT HESITATION,
SHE ASKS ME WHY I HAVE NOT YET CHANGED THE LOCKS.