your lips drip
full of sweet nectar
to lure me into
your wasteful,
rotting
heart.

pretty words
slip
off
your
lips
as if they were the
honey
lavender
and chai
that you love to drink.

as bitter as the coffee you seem to inhale
there is nothing more sweet
than the way you have me
wrapped
seamlessly,
endlessly,
around your being.

i am nothing short of
enamored
by you.

i've only been drunk roughly four,
maybe five
significant
times,
in my life.

the first time:
out of sheer curiosity for the taste
when i was roughly 15 or so.
it was illegal,
still is.
but everyone does it.

the second time:
when i was of legal age,
thankfully.
college frat parties,
out of my mind,
(was a lightweight, still am) .
not worth the headache
i had awoken to.

the third time:
was better.
a club for the first time,
not the last.
too many one night stands ensued after.
i can't remember them coherently.

the forth:
due to regret.
if anyone told you that drinking would help you forget, it's only temporary.
solve the issue at hand.
alcohol is of no use when it only allows you to
wallow in the painful depths of where it went down and why,
all the while extremely inebriated.

my fifth?
i'm still drunk.
i'm drunk off of you,
and i don't know what to do.

today it is 8AM
and my heart won't stop beating
it's full of anxiety
and hope
and love
because my little body misses you
and today you said you
might
be  
back.

today i've realized that
it's been a long while
since i've ever asked you,
"how are you?"
and
"how was your day?"

"have you eaten?"

and i feel so guilty
that i took advantage of your pure heart
and amazing care
that i was too focused on myself
to notice how you were doing.

i feel so sorry
and so angry
and upset at myself
for not loving you like
you deserve

and i hope that one day
you'll forgive me
and i'll be able to listen to
your
endless stories,
beautiful passions,
and crazy thoughts
that i once immersed in
but forgot to
because i've been
drowning in my problems
and not taking the time
to listen to you.

i'm going to try to be less selfish
and take the time to get better at
learning
understanding
loving
you.

because you've given me your
faith
time
love
and world.

and i feel so sorry that i haven't been giving you all of mine.

maybe
waiting for you hurts a lot more than i thought it would.
maybe
being alone with no hope
is better than being hopeful
after all.

i keep looking at
our pasts
and wondering about
our future().

pretty
little
glimpses of
light
f
a
l
l
against
my
delicate
wounds

i am nothing but
cradled within
the crevices of the
moon,
slowly being
l
   u
l
    l
e
   d
into the
safest dreams
i've hidden in.

let me sleep for
just a little
more -
before the sun
w  a  k  e  s
us
               .
         p

   u

these songs
that speak of
forever
trust
happiness
with the one you love

make my heart clench so painfully,
because i could only remember
every single time i've felt like that with you
and how it is all gone.

it makes me remind myself of
how i'm still trapped thinking
that i still belong to you
when i really belong to no other

than myself.

now it is five in the morning
and i have not slept a wink
worries plagued my mind,
"will it pass?
will i pass?"

to which i don't know the answer to
but cannot care enough to find it

we broke each other
so much
that we couldn't see the
remnants that we
once
loved.

you've managed to take the darkest parts of my soul,
the whispers that crawl beneath my skin,
and turn them into silk.

it takes a special method of
care,
effort,
patience,
to be able to turn nightmares
into a rare
delicacy

that many people lust after,
but not many can obtain.

get out of my head.
get out.
get out get out
get out get out
get
out
out
out
out
out
out
out
out

please.

they say that
to start the healing process
of sadness
regret
and
redemption
you must start with a story.

to tell someone of
your vulnerabilities,
and to speak of them
without fear of being judged

to vocalize your own beliefs
to share your thoughts and love
and fears
and sadnesses
with someone

that is truly an art form.

maybe one day i will tell someone the story of you and i
as a process of
my own healing.

i am chipped porcelain,
once valued
now worn.

body drawn taut,
relief no longer found

it'd be useless to
fill these crevices,
broken flaws,
with your
gold.

today i learned that
you were a little bit allergic
to
everything.

despite questioning it all,
i'd still love to have the
faraway dog farm
you dream of.

i'll just have to give you benadryl every day,
for the rest of our lives.

it's like i need to ask,
as if my brain needed permission,
to be away from all my sins—

to request for rest that can't be given.

from the way you work around the clock,
to the way you stay awake,
from the little messages of "*****, i love you,"
to the happiness you've always made.

you always manage to radiate so brightly
no matter how much you have struggled.

your endless
love
you always manage to give,
the way you
care
for everyone that manages to bump into
your waking moments.

briefly,
suddenly,
vivaciously,
you've managed to touch my own.

thank you for making my
eyes smile,
heart warm,
and
breath pick up.

for there is no one as uniquely created
to light up the world
as you have,
little flower.

if we had the ability to fly on a
magic carpet,
and you'd ask me to:
"show me your world,"

you would only see the bright lights
of your eyes,
the petals
of your lips,
and the deep timbres
of your voice.

for only you
and you alone,
are
my seas,
my skies,
my countries.

i cannot simply stand here, watching the world pass before my eyes without having a look or two in the distance, wondering where my life lies ahead.

i need to learn to love myself

i can only hope my words still
live
after i am gone.

singed cigarettes beneath my palms,
radiant flashes of everything wrong,

fingers stretched towards the light.
craning,
reaching,
desperate for a flight.

blood pulsing, high, swimming in adrenaline.
no one knows how desperate we were
back then.

the swaddled blanket
we've
so carefully
interwoven

safe,
warm,
intimate

has been
taken apart
by your hands.

i remember us
huddled into blankets
the tuff rubbing into our tender cheeks
swallowing us

whole.

i remember us
hushed whispers
delicate, shy
touches that spoke one thousand words too many
                                                                  
                                                                      us
in the midst of the night    
when the moon                              
                                                
                                                    at
                                       up
                  
                      looks


i remember u.