My favourite moment with you,
the ones I will always remember
is when we were dying,
fighting so hard to stay alive, to stay together.
I was crying. Not for my life. For yours.
Your eyes were closing.
"Keep them open, " I recall pleading
You were smiling. Your mouth was bleeding.
"Lets make this one count." You replied.
And I tasted the blood on your lips,
the same blood that flowed from your heart.

You may ask why this is my favourite moment of us.
Simply because I knew in that fragment of time
Your wish came true. As did mine.

They say connections prosper
when death leers into your eyes
There is nothing can tear us apart,
bleed us, defeat us
Together our spirits can never truly die,
Mine will soon be at your side.

I will never forget the day we died.
It was the day I saw your real smile
and the day of my very first kiss.
We did not leave our bodies in vain.
We left them fulfilled with hope & bliss
God promised our vessels will never rot.
As we rose forever to the sky,
witnessed the Heavens crying rain.
For us. Joyful tears.

The vessels we left became seeds
Intertwined,
to one day birth a magnificent tree.

Remember when we were dying?
It was my favourite moment on earth.

I just want to spill my guts to you
let loose every withheld thought
just take a scalpel and carve into my brain
carnage will be wrought and blood will rain
as i empty my mind to you
or maybe not
maybe i'm afraid of what will splash on the page
demons let loose from their fleshy cage.
passion straight out of hell
perhaps ill end up being an empty shell
hollow as the house I sit in
running away from potential
my mind juggles hypothetics
to life we become impartial
"a brains look like hedge maze", and other ironics
in a poem its almost oxymoronic
in life it's just moronic

This isn't a poem about a boy,
or my lonely heart,
or my desperation for love.

This isn't a poem about today,
or pretty flowers,
or heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.

This is a poem about me,
and my independence,
and my strength.

This is a poem about standing on my own,
and catching myself when I fall,
and learning from my mistakes.

This is about me,
not you.

I fell in love with a young man so perfect he only lived in my dreams.
I became consumed by him.
The dimple on his left cheek, the patch of blue in his green eyes.
Sleeping my life away, hour by hour.
Awakening only to eat and yet it was still too much time wasted.
Too much time spent not with my young man.
So, one night he told me where he had been buried, underneath an enormous birch tree, far to the west he said.
I traveled to the enormous birch tree, far to the west and prepared myself.
I peeled away the skin on my wrists, ankles and throat and before I slipped into my beloved world of unconsciousness, I tied myself to the enormous birch tree.
With each blink I felt the tree absorbing my blood.
I opened my eyes to see the young man in front of me.
He said, "Well done." as he pulled my heart from my cold chest and placed it into his.
He kissed my cheeks and whispered into my ear,
"This, is what love feels like." and walked away.