You were laying in a bathtub
And all they did was wash you.
You were alone.
Bruised toes hanging of out the white porcelain.
Your hair, damp and thick with mildew, dripped off my fingers.
And you were alone.
All they did was wash you.
Blue lips, puckered as if to say your final speech
That everyone around you left you alone,
Entirely alone.
Until the only one left to find you,
Was me.

There’s something sadistic about cigarettes,
and the way they fondled your hands
like the way you used to ****** me,
hard and rough.
There’s something sadistic about the way they ****,
slow and steady,
like your words and how you purred them into my ears.
Their smell, coats and lingers for what can seem like years.
Just like your Old Spice body and strawberry scented hair,
because 4 years later the scent sticks to my nostrils
like a child clings to their mother.
There’s just something sadistic about the way a cigarette can look so **** good on you.
A fashion accessory, licensed to ****

I wish I could say that telling you how I feel
Was as easy as saying,
"It's like falling off the Grand Canyon"
But it's so much deeper than that
It's like exploding into the stars
With a body on fire, alive from you
It's the rain at 2 am that wakes you from your
Sleep. But all you can do is smile
It's the neurons in your brain that sputter endlessly,
With the most captivating thoughts.
You are an infinity of stars and planets
That swirl with fragile hands.
You are a book etched with love and emotion
You are the music that rocks me to oblivion
Ceaselessly yearning for something more.
You are the 6am sunrise that bathes my skin
And blinds my eyes.
It's the mesmerizing passion for the little things,
The loose tea cups and finger-drums
Dedication for the craft you have perfected,
But not quite.
It's everything good and bad
It's you.

I can't remember the last time I looked into the mirror,
And didn't see the vague shell that I am today.
Because today, my body bleeds passion for the uninspired
My skin, shrink wrapped over hollow tree branches
That extend to the beachy shallows of my body
That not even I can see anymore
I am a withering tree who's leaves cannot grow
And roots are dry
I am the stiff wind in January that will burn your cheeks,
I am the only thing that keeps two people apart.
Yet, I will shout from corridors and mountain peaks alike,
I am fine