you pull me through doorways
with cherry red charm
you fill me with whiskey
and hang on my arm

The clerk asks for blood
the stone has run dry
we promise ’tomorrow’
and feed him with wine

dark clouds move faster
the voice of hard wind
it speaks to you only
as thunder moves in

you twist here beside me
and curl like a vine
your teeth in my shoulder
reliving some crime

you hold me so tightly
and whisper your vows
your secrets stay hidden
your tears are so loud

I want you
and a home to come home to
or maybe to come home to you
or maybe a home in you
or maybe I just want you.

These bruises and scars on my skin
help me remember,

"Yes,


I am still alive."

At times I wonder.
Do you ever
think of me.
While gazing
at the stars.
When revisiting
the past.

Or am I
just
a memory.
Long lost,
forgotten.
Buried
deep down
in the shards
of time.

He must notice something.

The way my eyes light up whenever I see him,
The way I drop everything and see him whenever he needs me.
How fast I can reply to his texts,
The way I always say yes to him to whatever he asks.
The way I suddenly get quiet whenever he asks me about crushes,
The way I look at him for a bit too long.

He must notice something.
He's probably noticed everything.
But he doesn't respond.

Which is why I'll never tell him.

How do you explain to
your parents that
the reason your grades
are so low is because
there is a hole
in your heart
a sinking feeling
a kettlebell of 50 pounds
an anchor dragging
you down
a monster in your brain
that makes you
forget things
but not one thing
not one thing
that one thing stays.

Moss, on the forest floor
cushions my shoulders
amidst of towering pillars
I breathe in the woodland's breath
a cool breeze, that scents the palette
so refreshingly clear.
Let it rain and melt the ****** snow
that adornes the cutlery of this green kitchen.
Something pleasantly stirs.