But in a way,
it didn't even feel like a week.


It felt like
             years
             and
             seconds
             at the same time


                                       …you know?


Everything felt
so right
and it felt
as if we had known each other for ages,
but at the same time it felt
like everything was over in a split second.


I guess…
that's what love
does to you, though.

The sound of thunder
            is washing against
                        a sleepless horizon, again…


And while days
            and miles and minutes
                        and all of the waters of the North Atlantic
            separate your body from
lying next to mine,
            painting the perfect picture of
                        soulful symmetry that I’ve been
            craving to know for the longest time,

for even half of a fickle moment,
            if I can hear your heartbeat against
                        my ear and feel the warmth of
            your body against my back

and the embrace of your arms
            wrapped tightly around my frame,
                        banishing every insecurity from
            the corners of my mind…

If I can feel grounded in your presence,
            even for just a moment…

And know that I’m not a puppet,
            rigged up as a marionette by my own emotions,
                        strung out on bad dreams and decisions, they’re just
            bad schemes that I’ve never learned to fight off,
or dry off from these ******
            depressive states soaking into my skin
                        like dollar store sanitizers, leaving my
            skin burning, and my soul yearning to
be clean from the agony that others have
            left behind, I just want simple peace of mind,
                        so that maybe, when the sun isn't shining and the sky is overcast
            I don’t start drifting into the past,
and I don’t lose myself again…


If I can feel grounded in your presence,
            even just for a moment…

Then maybe...
            Just maybe...
                        The sound of the thunder
                        washing against the horizon
                        won’t keep me awake at night…

Sometimes I
feel like I’ve given
you too much control
over my heart and
head, while I’m
just lying here,
in the dark
waiting for a
response that will
probably never come
and answers that will never
lay my worst fears to rest.

But for
some reason,
I can’t stop saying
I love you, even
when it feels a
bit hollow as
it echoes out
of my lips.

But I can’t
let you hear
that I’m doubting
the things between us
because I know just how
much you’ve given up
for me and just how
much of my heart
I’ve given up to
you.

The world is too loud for someone with fragile ears like mine.

I can hear the words you don’t mean to say,
the stories you don’t mean to tell,
the lies you thought you could hide,
and these things that aren’t meant to be heard
drown out the song of the universe with a dark static
that sometimes just makes me wish

that I was deaf to the world.

I’d rather give up hearing the sweet sounds
of the birds chirping in the pre-dawn hours
than have to be assaulted by things that I never wanted to hear,

and I’d rather have to read the words on the lips of people
because I’m no good at listening to what they say
and if I make a mistake while I’m guessing
then I can just blame it on my ignorance
and that’s something that seems to be okay in this world.

And even though ignorance should never be an excuse,
I’d be more than happy to have a healthy dose to myself,
because anything has to be better than making people out for who they really are.

I feel…

blah…

Like someone’s drained
the last bit of emotion from
the well in my chest and
I don’t know why,
but for some reason I’m feeling
hurt that you’re kicking me
to the sidelines,

even though…

I told you it was fine…

My chest feels tighter
than a ******* corset,
but I’m not complaining
because I’m worried that
if I do, you’ll just redirect
that anger and frustration
of yours right back at me
and it’ll only get worse
from here on out.

But am I just supposed to
go against my nature and
bottle these feelings up,
concentrating them into
the very poison falling
from my lips, until we
both drink it,

or maybe I just drink it,

and fall apart even more
than I already have…

Blue lips,
pale skin,
and a hand me down noose,
whose lips poisoned whose,
or are we just drowning in the doubts?

Your lips,
your skin,
and a persistent lack of faith,
my lips poisoned yours,
and I think it’s time to escape…

*******.

You’re gorgeous.

Look.

Someone’s definition
of beauty is never based
on their own self-image.

If it was,
we’d all be spending our
entire lives staring at ourselves
in mirrors thinking,
“*******, I’m a hot *******.”

But instead,
we find our definition
of beauty written at the
corners of the world and
on the hearts of the people
around us.

And I’ve found my definition
of beauty written
in your smile,
in the way you breathe,
in your eyes,
on your lips,
and in each
and every
“I love you”
that we share.

You’re not exactly what I’d call a friend
and I didn’t mean to invite you in again,
but you’ve been around for so long
that I’ve just come to accept your presence.

Now, somehow you forced your way in
and my chest is tearing itself in two
and all of these idiotic memories are
drilling themselves to the front of my thoughts.

And I don’t know why you think
that you can just barge right in unannounced,
but take this as a formal invitation
to kindly get the hell out of my life.