we can grow our hair
I could paint your nails
I'll use your shirts
you can wear mine too
I'll comb your hair
you could kiss my lips
I just want you to stay
believe me when I say
I'll do anything to see your face
anything to hear your voice
I'll give you that side of the bed
I would wear your cologne if you allow it
do you want to try my perfume
should I wear your socks
will you come by
stay for a little while
stay the night
stay with me today
don't ever leave
I'll do anything


now I know
I'm feeling it

love is so hard

halo, halo
flooded by musky greens
that wipe out the bitterness
to your taste
hands tight on my waste
and lifting me
to sit on a shredded pillow
the window open
the walls damp
the chill once again comforts me
embracing an icy touch
you cut my hair
a head of bleach falls to the floor
my black roots remain
fragile breaths come from the trees
awakening once more
creeping their branches into the room
creeping under my tunic
the sky clears and I am soft
the pillow empties of its feathers
removing the inside
releasing the weight

Both can ****
        The only difference is
                      Cigarettes shatter lungs
         She shatters everything

            I remembered the first moment
my lips pressed the filter
     as I lit it up breathed it all
                savored every smoke
       as if we covered up painful lies
        in a container of painkillers

The same way  
we used to pressed our lips
     sparked something between us
           savored every moment we had
    as if our love was a rose
               in a valley of tulips

Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Does it bronze beneath the sun?
Or sizzle and blush
Like your cheeks
When you’re in love?
Is it soft to the touch
Like when your palms graze
The smooth surface of water?
Or rough around the edges
Like your favorite book
And its lovingly worn corners?
Does it melt in the heat
Like sweet syrupy treats
Dripping through your fingers?
Or does it welcome the winter
With wide open arms
As if greeting a lover?
Paint me a picture
Of your skin

for dinner I took all of your teeth
out of the drawer and crushed them up
into a powder and let it dry out my tongue.
you shouldn't have left your smile with me.
I dumped all your leftover fidelity
out onto a plate and ate it cold.
left on my tongue was
sour styrofoam
from the back of the fridge.
the same taste as when
you'd stick your hand out
of the car window.
some things never change.