Fingers move up the frets
blues entwined with the metal slide
drowsy smoke swaying with hips and pool *****
knock with the jukebox keeping time.

You’re ******* down another drink
drown out demons
haunting your soul,
hoping you can take someone home.

Forgotten beauty, only fear
lurking in the heavy air
the bar is spinning and every lesson
you've learned, you’re dead set on forgetting.

Regulars hustle another game
trying to win back years lost
in this basement
that smells of ***** and **** and sin and long lost dreams.

They come to forget
the war, they come to forget
the rent they owe, they come to forget
why they came to this godforsaken bar in the first place.

My eyes glaze over
watching the ghosts drifting around
green felt tables and the old dusty dart boards
heavy hearts hidden under calloused layers of tough love.

When the lights come on and the music stops
your touch pushes me further into the haze
and every plan is put on hold when
your lips find their way up my neck
teasing every nerve until I forget how to breathe.

The forgotten and the lost
roaming aimlessly together
to the tunes of regret
the pangs of sadness
drinking only to forget.

It was only the first night I met you, and I knew
I could get lost in the way the moonlight reflected in your eyes.
But it was nothing compared to your heart,
Your heart and the way it beat in rhythm with mine.

And so that night, and every night,
I did get lost in the way the moonlight reflected in your eyes
But it was nothing compared to the way I saw myself,
When I saw myself reflected in your eyes

And now I will never forget that day,
The day that took a piece of me forever.
Now exists a darkness so deep,
The darkness is threatening to swallow me whole.

And now today, and every day,
I miss seeing the way the moonlight reflects in your eyes,
I miss feeling the synchronized beat of your heart with mine,
And most deeply, I miss the unity of our souls when our eyes met.

Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.

How long has it been
since your black tourmaline eyes
met mine, a long-forgotten coal
all burnt and dead of its use;
very much like the owner.

How long has it been
since your ice cold touch
sear at my hot as hell skin
against each other, so imperfect
yet we are of no danger to each other.

How long as it been
since the murmur of your melodic voice
entwined with my out-of-place tune
be it bickering
or a symphony played on the *****
haunting, yet soothing
as we will always go together.

How long has it been
since the silent treatments that will
usually end with an "I love you"
and the ear-splitting shatter of glass,
screaming anger that whispers "I love you"
wind their way across our lives?

Far too long, far too long.

I sit out on the roof at night
contemplating my insignificant existence
after being proven time and time again
that maybe I’m not meant to be here
that maybe I’m undeserving to breathe.

Tell me, father, what good am I to you?
How much worth am I to call myself your kin?
Hush but by not the words and actions of yours
I hide my anguish behind bruises you won’t see
maybe you never will see.

The world is not meant to serve you
you are not king neither are you of such relation
your deem for wishes upon silver and gold plates
but rather you treat it quite a lot like ****
just as you treat me the same.

I’d prefer it if people know me for having your temper
possibly the only feature I’m proud of, the fear
though to prevail it brings me nightmares
you taught me in ways that you are not the teacher
and I earned it in ways that it wasn’t such a prize.

The clouds I exhale are chilling
just as my pretty little heart is an iceberg
sinking, sinking, sinking…
I have nothing to live for, much less you
I keep myself warm, splitting my knuckles into two.

I’d like to think there’s nothing wrong with me
but every time I look in the mirror,
a mess is all I see.

Who is this girl with curly black hair
that runs down her shoulders like angry waterfall
suffocating her every night as she sleeps alone
but to be honest, there’s not much difference
when they were your hands around her instead.

Who is this girl with coal-like irises
that thinks she’s already dead, that her soul ran away
just a ghost in a body not knowing exactly what to do
quietly roaming around this deceitful city
but they are honest and they see, the monster in you.

Who is this girl with light, bleeding, soft lips
fumbles nervously around everyone she knew
tripping over her own words, about you
struggling to align her messy mind
because it’s always havoc at the thought of you.

Who is this girl who pulls sleeves over her fingers
a constant lie of “I’m fine” to whenever anyone ask her
they try to make her out, another sad girl with cuts over you
but no, not this girl, she is sad with bruises that can’t be seen
bruises that blend well with her porcelain skin.

I am that girl, one who sees perfection in everyone but herself
no matter what anyone tells her, it won’t be enough
I can never have enough of something good
because everything that comes with it,
requires a high price of sanity to pay.

My heart doesn't skip a beat anymore
when I see you, it pumps twice faster
ricocheting to my throat and suffocates me
and sometimes I think you can hear it
a familiar beat you held to your ear before
you look around wondering of this nostalgia
your fingers cold to the touch it used to bring
craving for the sear when they touch my back
once, your eyes found mine in the sea of people
and they play our happy memories
and they smile at the thought of it
and they slowly realise, the hurt
and they become blank again
and they were the last I've seen of you;
reminding me of what we once had and how
we'll never get it back.

I finally stopped wanting you,
But now I crave your touch.

I finally stopped needing you,
But you give me a sort of rush.

I finally got over you,
But now not so much.