The smoke seeping from your lungs
Into mine
Like the venom in my blood
Pulsing
Reaping
Reminding me of the cold in his breath
The nails down someone else's back
Then back to you
Back to me
I carve your name over and over
Until the words become air
In my lungs
In your head
In my head
I find myself trapped in this cage
In this life
In this love
In you
In me
I am lost
In the smoke within your breath

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.

I knew you would forget, just as soon as the sun would rise,
But your words, cliché and hollow, came as no surprise.
I asked but one small favor, at both break and close of day,
Just to hear you say hello, but now, hope's bled away.

There are galaxies in my throat
all named after you.

Its not a bad life
just a bad day
so get high
because the world
is too low

Have you ever...

Heard a color? Seen a sound?
Smelled a thought, or all around,
Traversed an inward universe,
Where waves of mind abound?

Have you ever...

Climbed upon a ray of light,
Ascending towards the peak, and
Visited a place, of which
Mere words could never speak?

Have you ever,

Felt yourself expanding,
Out into the atmosphere, and
Glimpsed your tiny world below,
While laughing at your fear?

Have you ever...

Stepped outside that little box,
The one that some call "you?" and
Probed the depths, to question
Why you do the things you do?

Well,

...have you?