You are a sunset to me
With beauty emanating beyond my sight
And once you leave, the evening comes
Wrapping me in the depths of the night

I cannot do anything to stop you from setting
Nor bring you back once you leave
So I take every chance to see you
Cherishing the moments I could never retrieve

Sometimes I stare out the window
Looking at the orange sky
Wondering what makes a sunset so breathtaking
I guess I will never know why

I'd like to think I'm alone in the world,
Because when I realise I'm not the only one who's hurting,
I feel horrified that there are so many,
There's no beauty in numbers,
When you read the reason it's for,
Don't you feel a little sick?
There's many of us dying,
worse yet, we're the ones with the **gun.

To kiss the swollen moons
of your eyes,
The feathered locks
of your hair
Your staggering
heartbeat on my palm, trembling
as the planets still move.

To hold your worn hands
The rough skin
of old fingers that have traveled so far,
countries from this ground your heavy feet now grapple.

To follow with my fingertip
the creases months have carved
and wash your edging eyes.
To draw a tear from those
dried, paper-painted
pupils, black as the night sky.

Your existence paralyses me.
I can feel your presence from miles away.

Your words break through my ribs
to find a place to pull.
As I would pull you closer,
if only you were here.

I fear sharing your breath.
I am dependent on your arms.
As I lean closer
I know you will feel my weight,
too heavy for this life,
if life should be a feather
whilst a knife dangles above my head.

And what if you could stop me from drowning?
Lift me of this place where the world is muffled and dense
What if you could raise my head above the sparkling surface?

I would feel the sun beating down on me,
with the air as pure as summer.
And with you, reality might suffice,
for once.

On sunny days
I walk alone
Thinking of you
Pondering
The shape of rough hands
The curve of soft lips

The aching thunder of our chests
In harmony

.
.
i want to pull you apart in sections like an overripe orange
and lick all the juice off of your skin
.

I hear a thousand voices in my head:
The screams of many lost lives.
What I did not realize is that all of them were mine.
I chose to suffer in silence instead.