stop romanticizing death.
the sick image of me
laying on my grave
as you sit beside
shaking with unspoken words
of lost love.

old and new times come together
pretending that we are so easy
to recreate.

10 minutes away
tomorrow I am leaving
so why at my feet now,
all the emotions
that I don't want to step into
cover me in mud.

smoke blinds the past
time after time.

when is this night gonna end.

And if you're asking if I slept well the answer is no.
my eyes and heart are aching with cement stuck in between my toes
and your words in my fingers.
Tears come back to burn like the summer sun
tripping on my own eyelids
drowning in winter
drowning in you.  

Your voice croaks from all the plastic you've swallowed.
Shadow after shadow I'm on my knees begging that you won't have another drink;
you see, I'm afraid that the burning of all the camera flashes and ***** have replaced the warmth of long term friendships and sarcastic complains.

as the music takes control of two lonely people
we danced through these months
with bruised feet and
****** toes.

as the year comes to an end we pick old broken glass
from our fingers to leave them in the sun.
lets not forget sober sunsets
and intoxicated rises.

as a new one comes so does the end.
so let's say our goodbyes now
and maybe leave a piece in -
for two thousand
and thirteen.

the ocean is six miles deep.

you're buried six feet deep.

this the the sixth time I've thought of him tonight,

and the fifth to write it.