Our lips touched,
And we burned.
    I was consumed by a passion so intense,
    So fervid, The stars scorched.
You are my only Salvation,
But Salvation is not what I seek.
Not from this glorious lust of insanity.
     *Not now,
       Not ever.

i feel a desperate need to apologize
but i have nothing to be sorry for

sorry for not being ready?
sorry for not believing you
(when you've given me evidence
to prove the opposite of your words)?

the more and more you opened up
the more and more i began to see
the parts of me that i hate the most
inside of you
(and you didn't bother to hide it)

you never bothered to know me
you only bothered to know
your interpretation of me
and it was wrong
(don't argue with me)

i am not everything you hoped i'd be
and i'm sorry for that
but you did this to yourself

i know exactly what you're going through
i know exactly how you feel
but please
just
shut the **** up

(you never listened to me anyway)

oh if only you knew
i would give anything
anything to be
anything other than me

freckled knees
freckled shoulders
freckled arms

"why are you so pale?
you look like you're dead
have you tried getting a tan?"

the irony stings my burned shoulders,

yes i have tried.

yellowed bruises remain on my thighs,
the thighs that got me called fat
in the seventh grade

"have you ever noticed
she's kinda fat? i mean
her thighs are so big,
they're like thunder thighs"

and from that statement a nickname was coined
that caused me to desperately,
desperately,
need to be skinnier
and i'll never be enough

"darling, are you okay?
please take this
go home and eat a big dinner
the wind is going to blow you away!"

i don't think i can ever win

I remember waking up very early the next morning,
maybe three hours after I fell asleep on the bathroom floor.

I tiptoed through the house, careful not to wake anybody up,
even the guy who kept telling you to drink
even though you very kindly asked him to stop.

I'm not sure if you ended up drinking,
I forgot most of what happened that night,
but I remember shouting from the tire swing
that I loved you and that I loved you
and that I loved you.

I found where you were sleeping,
relieved to find no body next to yours,
and calmly placed a hand on your forehead.
You stirred, before gently grabbing my hand as it pulled away.

Eyes still closed,
you asked me how I felt.

I feel okay, nothing appears to be broken.

You said nothing and went back to sleep.
I said nothing and sat there for a long while.
I watched your chest rise and fall with each breathe,
and I loved you and I loved you and I loved you.

After a time I stepped outside to smoke a thought,
and the thought I smoked was not of you or of the night before
but of my mother.
She told me,
after I brought home my first date, two months into my freshmen year of high school,
that just because I desire somebody's love,
does not mean I deserve it.

I loved you and I loved you and I loved you
but I did not deserve your love.

a strange world we live in
where i can hear
your last moments
and feel a connection to you
although you can't feel
anything

anymore

-and suddenly,
I stopped caring.
Prepare to read more of my teen angst.

Thinking about the past with you makes me feel guilty
Why do I feel guilty thinking about things we shared
I did love you once, I think
I don't know
I can't remember

Sell your dope.
Sell the last of it
and the first of it.

No, don't rail it tonight,
you know you'll just end up
shooting it tomorrow.

Sell your dope.
Sell it cheap
and sell all of it.

Buy roses,
buy chocolates,
buy gas.

Ask her on a date,
to the movies,
to dinner.

Sell your dope,
and kiss her.
What is more important?

You know what is more important.
Your high will last 4 hours, maybe five.
The feeling of her lips will linger.

The feeling of her lips will linger.
Sell your dope,
fall in love.