i pull her, inches towards me
closer, closer; i don't wanna breathe

and she struggles and her grasp loosens
and she's leaving now, and i'm in the same position

eyes to the floor, head bowed a little
trying not to cry from a heart so fickle
trying to muster a smile, but the tear, it trickles

"i love you" i whisper; she's gone and i'm too late
i hear her voice resound in my head; my shoulders are dead weight
her heart speaks a language only mine can translate

but it's foreign now, and my heart doesn't understand
she's changed and i've changed and i don't know her like the backs of my hands

and it's been three weeks now but the lump in my throat is still apparent
it's been five ******* weeks now but the world is still so transparent

why can i only see beauty when it's oozing out of her skin?
why can i only picture life without her as an odyssey of burden?

this is not an "i miss you" poem, even though i do
it isn't a plea or a beg or a self-piteous bunch of love spew

it's from one soul to the other
to one soul from a broken lover
(just to let you know) there will never be another
because there's no lightening without its thunder

imagine if our eyes
reversed our lives
in slow motion;
endless sea sickness
drowning in your succulent ocean,
hoping for the potion
to lead this
sickeningly twisted
endless devotion
into an eternity of
relentless corrosion

imagine if clocks were non-existent
time was an abyss, limited yet distant;
home is where the heart is -
i'm homeless
and suffocating in
your ****** fluoresce

wallowing and distressed
hallucinating and possessed
homicide and loneliness

i feel vandalised
like a building, derelict
abandoned with flowers
growing faces like they're parodists
i blink and free fall;
i'm standing, five thousand trees tall
you're crawling, can barely muster a squall
and i'm soaring;
ten thousand trees tall

i want to hold your hand through all the season changes; autumn to summer, making chains out of daises and i want you to know that love is probably my biggest fear
but you make me love with open arms
and as deep as outstretched oceans, grabbing hold of you with both palms and as violently as nuclear bomb explosions
i'll keep that fruitful heart of yours safe within my clutch because i know that mine is safe with you and your gentle benevolent touch

you make me remember why life is a joy rather than a burden and when my life draws its final curtains,
your face is the last i want to see
and i'm certain one day it'll all get a lot easier, the sky will be bluer and the breeze will be breezier,
and i'm certain until then we'll guide each other through because there's no one i'd rather be in life's ruthless grasp with than you

they say death is the only constant, i disagree

death is no match for you and me

i've lived for eighteen years
some babies don't make it to eighteen minutes
and it's sad when you wish you were
the baby who didn't
the baby who didn't get to experience
life and what it's like to live
and your feeble attempt at living
is an accurate portrayal of what it means to
exist and it's sad when you wish you were
the baby who didn't make it to four-years-old
so you never experienced the joy
of a park on an early summers morning where
your only worry was how high you could
go and beating your best friend so you
could be "champion" and as you get older
you realise a champion is someone who
suffers but manages to maintain a healthy,
positive mindset and being a champion at
four-years-old means nothing when your
mere existence is an accurate portrait of
failure. people say nightmares scare you,
if so i'd class life as a nightmare. it's sad when
you wish you were the child who didn't make it
to junior school, when you wish that you didn't
make it to the high school prom because then
you'd never have to realise that no one
wants to hold your hand and slow dance with you
no one tells you you look beautiful in a dress
you paid too much for just to feel uncomfortable
for the entire night. it's sad when you get to
eighteen and you realise that there's so much
more to life but you don't want to be alive to
witness it and if a baby who didn't make it to
eighteen minutes can leave the world gracefully,
then so can you.