thank you for
turning me
into something
beautiful from
dust.

we ate strange meat
from the ashes
when no green was left

starved and exhausted
we scoured the city
for weapons and meat

we fought wars
over canned fruit and water
and we left the dead to rot

but then the food ran out
and not even acid rain would fall
on the layers of nightmarish dust

when we found him
he was already gone
not dead but out of his mind

so we tied him
and we let him bleed
like a lamb at easter

and we feasted
first on his heart
and then on his meager flesh

In our cups was suddenly wine
and we drank at this
at our last supper as men

I woke next to you this morning
Your warm skin and scruffy face
           -which I find incredibly ****
And usually just this
Can make me skip
   throughout my day

But not today.
I woke with
       the silent wild fire
  from last night - and several days before -
still quietly burning
still slowly consuming
            my heart.

The night before this one
     you promised
things will change
But how can I wait
with my forest turning into ashes
        tree by tree
        branch by burning branch?

How can I wait for you to stop this fire
by throwing bucketfuls of water at it?

are the strings
i thought
were holding me up
actually
tying me down?

sometimes, i wonder
if you still cry
when you hear our song
(just like i do)

and i know it's selfish
but i still hope that every
love poem you write
makes you think of
me

i wish i could hold all your freckles
in the palm of my hand,
(sprinkle them across my body
and drown in them slowly,)

so i could carry a piece of you
with me, always.