You think you can erase me. You think throwing my glass to the ground will remove my lip stick stains. You think your brain, like rocks, will become smooth if you lay in the gentle waves of a new lover. You think your fingers will lose my prints if you burn them long enough on the fire of your newfound passion.
You think her smell will cloud over mine. You think you can forget I was ever around, when you hold the truth on your skin.
How could I possibly be gone from you if you'll never be gone from me? My mouth shows you to every single person I meet. They can't see you there, they can't feel you with my tongue. They don't know the chip you've left on my tooth. It's not there for them. It's mine.
You pretend I don't know your body like a map. You don't think I can trace the scars of your fingers, draw the gully of your joints, the flat plains of your chest. You don't know a thing.
I'll never be gone. You can cut me out physically all you want. But when night comes, and you're clutching her close, remember me.
Remember me then. You'll feel her body shift, and for the briefest of seconds, you'll know where mine belongs.
You'll catch my scent on a breeze, and call her my name. You can't ignore me. I'll never go away. I know far too much to vanish. It's not over, and I won't let it be over until I've seen you squirm.
She doesn't want you. We both feel it.
See, even if I'm not near you, I feel you. I feel what you feel, know what you're thinking. That won't go away.
You can singe my *******, and you can **** my mementos. You can.
You can't **** what they meant to you. You can't **** what you feel.
So drown yourself in her, and I'll laugh when you roll to my shores, torn apart.
Your skin will sag and weigh itself down with seaweed. You'll have barnacles on your tongue as you try to speak to me. You will tell me, "I knew it was wrong. You will never be gone,"
And I will tell you to hush, and rip off each one slowly, savoring them, making your mouth bleed onto my lap. Your blood will pool around my knees, and sink into my skin, like it was always meant to.
You can't escape me.
Late at night, lay there, thinking of me.
You may have her now,
But you'll always have me.

Talk to me about research I'm ignorant of,
tell me what you think of it
and then ask me about it to
make sure I'm listening.
Keep me on my toes with intelligence,
I'll be sure to repay you with the equivalent.

Entice me.
Flirtation can be the best weapon if you
know how to make the conversation
sufficiently intoxicating.
Try it.
Do it with me.

It's only when you can **** me
without laying a hand on me,
that I will ever fantasize about
really surrendering myself
to you

having me.

each sip, succulent, powerful,
until the finishing drops,
lingering, taunting, provocative,
all make their way to my mind.

each hit off this cigarette,
burning deeply, cancer-ridden,
deliciously curves my appetite
to the skew i've taken against myself:

    inhumane in the disdain for myself, my existential ideals push themselves through me.

every blink, second
brings about refreshening,
uplifting, unrelenting, and deathly
eye-opening thought processes.

the last time i tried,
passively, obsessively, partially
only half-heartedly, i was found
stuck with half of my heart gone.

    *i'd hate anything hateful you'd ever have to throw at me, but i'm willing to listen.

that music brought me back
to when i was sixteen and still in love with him
the year the words “let it die” should have been tattooed
in black letters across my entire face,
and the remaining years after that
up until he left for good.
that setting brought me back
to that one summer when i was
trying very hard to limit my recklessness
to a small cough or a sedative,
until it seeped out
and the stains on my hands gave me away.
i wanted to look over and sing the lyrics
with you but you were lost in your head,
you were somewhere else.
i wanted my friend to put her arm around me
and say “i am so glad we are here together” but
my friend is somewhere else, as everyone seems to be
lately. i don’t know why
loneliness swallows us so wholeheartedly
when we are among a crowd of people,
inhaling their silence and laughter and meaningless
chatter. i wanted to float up into the magenta sky,
i wanted to feel my wings carry me up and over
the city skyline,
i wanted to disappear into the abyss
of music itself.

I wanna be the drug in your syringe
Inject me into your skin
I'll patch up those holes in your veins
From the inside out
I wanna be the vase you pick flowers for
and leave on your night stand
I'll bleed lavender into your dreams
while you sleep
I wanna be the water that flows through
the stream behind your house
Swim with me
I'll cradle you peacefully
I wanna be the pillow you rest your head on
Cry over me
I'll absorb your tears deep into me
I wanna be the CD you play on your way to work
Sing along to me
I'll take you there safely
I wanna be the broken glass
window at your mom's house
I wanna show you
I wanna be the rear view mirror
on your dad's wrecked pick up truck
I wanna show you
I wanna be the notebook
you filled with angry words in high school
I wanna know you
I wanna be the guitar
you first found yourself with
I wanna know you
I wanna taste the stutter in your voice
The brink of your vulnerability
I wanna breathe in your pain
Over a cigarette
On your back porch
I wanna breathe you in
*I want to be in your bed
I swear everything you
say goes straight to my head
I want to be in your bed

artificial feelings overflow;
flooding the relationship I've held closely,
for so long that I don't know how it would feel without it.

artificial words overflow;
out of my mouth and between my lips,
all of them out of an already engrained habit.

"i promise",
promises that i never plan to keep.
describing feelings that i lack the ability to feel.

instead stealing;
using the words of friends,
the ones they've whispered to me about being in love.

or creating;
stringing already claimed lyrics and quotes together,
orchastrating a symphony of the feelings that i claim to feel myself.

becoming a romantic;
and yet somehow managing not to give it all up,
to fall in love the way that i describe as i stare into his eyes.

lying knowingly;
and somehow not knowing,
that this whole time it has been for company.

He; my companion.
Myself; his dearest love.

How long will I roam
with this homesick syndrome?

Oh deep blue sea
of vast opportunity,
I am tuning in
and tuning out,
nothing matters
but everything counts.

Can I quit Time?
Can I quit Space?
Can I pack my mind
and leave this place?

Oh Infinite distance
of my vast Existence,
I see through the delusions
of all these Illusions,
but the smarter I become
the less I feel as One.

Can I quit Feel?
Can I quit Think?
Can I pack my Will
and let this ship sink?

Creation takes determination
but no motivation in my imagination.
My only desire
to return to the Higher.
My souls longing
for a sense of belonging.

I chose this course
but I long for the Source.
How long will I roam
with this Homesick Syndrome?