never trust
the boy who says
he loves you

never trust
the green eyes
or the wicked lips

never trust
your own heart
because it doesn't know ****

but you will believe him
and you will fall hard
and you will get hurt

I don't want to desire
waking up next to you
with limp limbs
and ruffled hair.

I don't want to daydream
about that chipped tooth
that appears when you smile
or when you say my name.

I don't want to play pretend
and imagine our lives
intertwined when we are 38
but still acting 17.

It's true.
I don't want any of these things.

I need them.

I need you to
fill my body
like the oxygen
in my lungs.

I need you to
hold me tighter
to you than
gravity to earth.

I need you to
read this and
see that you
need me too.

I tried to write a poem
about your lips.
The way they curve, swell, and smash
like the waves on the Texas coast
we always talk about,
but haven't seen.

Or maybe about your eyes
that aren't just green
but a lively emerald
like the lily leaves
in the stained glass windows
of my church you won't go in.

Or maybe about your hands.
Rough, strong, and calloused
like mountains, yet,
run over me like a river
swirling and smooth
into the depths.

But somehow,
I can't bring myself
to write about any of those
because like the lead in this pencil
or your terrible memory,
all things fade away.

Bird perched on a vein
Pumping, pulsing
Talons on my pain

Beating sets the stage
Fluttering, flying
Against its cage

Away, it may try
Fighting, crying
But unable to fly

I like talking to you about the weather
because you are far enough away
for it to always be different
from me,
yet close enough so that
what was once yours,
slowly becomes mine.

You want someone
to write sad poems
about you as they
wait all alone.

But she is not here.
She doesn't have time
to write about you.
She's too busy fighting fear.

So wait at my door
or wait at my grave.
I wait for no one.
Not even a word more.

Trace the veins on your arm
Because they lead to your heart.

We don't know what the future holds,
So in the meantime,
We will hold eachother.

Read the autobiography on your eyelids
As you sleep beneath the moon.
In the night, I can finally see you.

Our past had a hold on us.
Clammy hands yearning for throats.
Intertwine fingers and I will kiss you back.

If the world ends in fire and flames,
All our smoke will be the same.