Oh, evil clock
  you are my truest enemy;
    your twisted hands
      taunting me
      consistently.

Why do you hate me?
If only I could forget you!
  Let you go for just
    one second...
  Yet then, alas,
    oh clever foe,
  You have me again.

From your evil clutches
  there is no escape.
For even in a moment's reprieve,
  I reminiss, and
    then, suddenly,
  the moment measured,
    I lose again.

You stand proud upon the wall,
  Oh evil clock,
    And I can only pray...
The day shall come
When I have won,
  By counting, instead,
    My beating heart,
Above the sound
  Oh evil clock
    of your two slaves...
  Tic + Toc.

Singing a tune
Where birds even stop to listen.
So light,
So beautiful;
Incredible.

She sang me to sleep,
Softly stroking,
While I drift off
Into an eternal sleep.

Laid me down
In a bed of flowers.
Her tears silencing her voice.

She took a breath
And carried on-
But there was no change;
Her voice was constant
But cherished.

At least it felt so,
To me.
My eyes seeing only the light.
But I felt as if I were already in heaven.

No gunshots,
No blood,
No screams,
No demise,
It was a moment to save
Until my death was certain.

I always thought
Life would never go
The way you expected it to,
But this was something unimaginable.

This memory
I thought it worth keeping
As my last.
Hearing nothing but love.
No deaths, but one.

Birds silenced,
By the singing
Of someone who loved me,
And will carry on.

I wanted to close my eyes
And keep it pictured forever in my head.
As my last memory.

And I did.

I walked down the street,
Two A.M in the morning,
Knocked on his door three times,
His face popped into view.

His eyes concerned, 
And he opened his mouth,
But I raised my hand,
And stopped him.

"Look, I know you don't want me here,
You probably don't feel the same way.
But hear me out
And listen to my say."

"I sure have been in love with you,
For a really long time.
But our friendship has been a little rocky,
And I did not want not ruin it 
Any more.

I also wish
That these feelings would go away,
So I waited.
By they didn't.
We only grew further apart.

I was relived when you came back.
But I knew you didn't feel the same way,
And I was put in misery again.

I have tried my best for you,
I have stuck up for you,
I dreamt about you,
I did everything I could for you.

But you stuck with being the bad boy,
Dating the bad girls,
Those impressions that the town has,
Isn't really you.

I know I am one of the few people,
Who can see through your ego.
You really are a genuine guy,
You are so so nice.

You treat people the way 
They should be treated.
You want to protect
The ones you love.

I have fallen for your humor,
I have fallen for your kindness,
I have fallen for your generosity,
I have fallen for your cockiness.

But sometimes I wish 
I was that girl,
Who had all your attention;
All your love.

So, I know this might ruin
Our beautiful friendship,
But I want you to know that I Love you;
And I always will.

I want you to know, 
That I wish you were the one I called early in the morning,
Just to say hi.
The one I called in the middle of the night,
Because I was in danger.
The one I hugged everyday,
Because I just loved you that much.
The one who would come up to me
At a godly hour,
Just to say you couldn't lose me.

But now, I'm the one,
Who is coming up to you,
At a godly hour
Saying I can't lose you.

You might not deserve a girl like me,
I'm just vulnerable.
But I try to get your attention,
Because I really need you.
I can sense your presence,
From a mile away.
And God ******,
You are really ****.

So here I am,
At your doorstep,
Asking for one thing only,
Yet it means so much.

So, please, I know it's asking too much,
But will you be the one I call early in the morning?

 Will you be my 2 A.M?"

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

Do you know how it feels like to have a stomach that can only survive on intimacy and nothing else?
To be prodded to love all the things that touch your skin whilst simultaneously not being
allowed or able to tell the difference between the things that love you and the things that want to leave you barren?
How it feels like to see the solemnity and grandeur of an omnipotence within all the sinless intentions of the skin cells that you'll never be allowed to hold?
Well...
It feels a lot like the romanticization of an eating disorder.

Sometimes you fall in love and then begin to forget how your organs are supposed to behave.
You look in the mirror and realize that you're still thinking about someone else when you're
Analyzing your own body.
You clutch at your own skin,
your arms,
your hair,
your throat,
and begin to try and disassemble a mind that does not want to be associated with the body that it is working in.
Before you know it,
Every time you cross the mirror you clutch more and more parts of yourself and wish that they would not feel better in somebody else's hands besides your own.
You're getting thinner everyday,
you're losing sleep
you're forgetting how to breathe,
And somewhere,
out there,
There is a boy in a place far away,
giving to someone else what you are about to be killed
without.

You realize that you turn your own bed into an ocean everytime you think about his face.
You feel the hydration of the salt water from everywhere around you,
tickling into your senses and diffusing into your nose,
but you do not taste it.
Only sense it.
You're grabbing the sheets desperately.
Holding them onto your chest, covering up your shaking body, and
almost certainly forgetting the difference between imagining the embrace of somebody who does not love you and drowning alone inside of your own bed.
You look for a lifeboat in the form of a thought that has no relation to love or association to the idea of affection.
You're hoping to find a distraction that will either save you from your peril or help you breathe in a way where you can still be conscious when there is water inside of your lungs.
You're beginning to see dark shapes and figures and all of them are sprouted by the idea
of just having a little taste of the very thing that's about to drown you.
All of the dark figures are in the shape of your face,
And nobody is here to save you.
You begin to sink,
And sink,
And sink,
and sink
and...

You are empty when you wake up.
Your chest is not an *****,
but you find it funny that when it feels empty,
your stomach also wishes to feel the same way.

So you make sure it does,
Whilst yearning for a meal that does not wish to be consumed by you.

That is the only meal,
that you will never stop craving for.