i’m sitting alone
in a room full of people
trying to find the words
to make my desire to die
sound poetic and romantic

-  it’s not working

maybe i was just suicidal

for knowing the inescapable truth

and loving you anyways


how can someone who can’t love himself
possibly understand how to love me?

don't try to tempt me out of bed with the promise of your body

your skin could never be as soft as my sheets

don't ever touch me, got that?

my body belongs in my room
in my bed

don't talk to me

don't even think about me

you all have filthy minds

don't taint me with your worry

I don't need you

all I need is my bed

You came to me in the summer sun
Skin bathed in soft radiance
A gentle smile
And gentler words

You came to me like cookie dough
Spilling through my fingers
With chocolate eyes and caramel skin
And a laugh sweeter than either

You came to me on paper planes
Soaring above a sea of people
Heights that we could dream of reaching
Arms extended to the sky

You came to me as a pen scratching on paper
Late at night in a dimly lit room
Pages of messy thoughts on clean lines
“I love you” and jumbled nothings

And you left me in the pouring rain
Drowning in the depth of your words
Yet, still I would sink even further
If it meant to see you again.