As extended branches test my hunger
I grip the fruit you have become
Ripened as the winds go streaming

Slashing through my tussled hair
Yon branches quickly to defend
Though fight I must if I shall have you

This fruit is tempting, young and pure
Through its flesh my teeth they probe
Delicious as the love of life does grow each spring

Dripping down my chin, the juices
Of every one that has disallowed
Sweeter when the bowl is full, unable to take in much more

I beg, I reach, I grasp, I claw
Your vibrant eyes they look away
These roots are strong, holding tight to every probe

Tighter still I feel the warmth
It covers me in splendor spent
I lie beneath your locks so soft and beautiful as is the dawn

Touch me deep inside my soul
This claim is but a fabled speech
My love to linger till the approaching sun

The fruits of passion fill the senses
Tastier than is the thigh
Forming in the minders fashion

This is why my beating heart cries
Tears of joy as are your lips
Countless times my dreams have fallen well inside

kissing you was like swerving into oncoming traffic

i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents

you taught me that the saying "pick your battles" meant not answering when love was at the door

sometimes when i drink whiskey i swear i can hear your voice in the creases of my bedsheets & i sleep on the floor

i still catch myself running my hands over things you touched the most, looking for the echoes of your fingertips

i practice things i'll never say to you

i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everything's already been said" & how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being cliche" you know, i don't miss you like the sun and moon, i do not miss you like tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, i miss you like a chernobyl  swingset misses children

rumor has it that drowning is a lot like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach

for your love of cigarettes, i would have been an ashtray

this halloween i want to dress up as the you when you loved yourself and show up on your doorstep

i never understood what you meant when you said i was an instrument, back when you would cup your hands around my chest and breathe through the holes in my heart, i still wonder if the sounds i made remind you of wind chimes

i never paid much attention to abandoned buildings until i became one

in my dreams all the flowers smell like your perfume

i am the only person who has ever wished for the same snowflake to fall twice

if i could go back, and rewrite the definition of audacity, it would be how when we lost the bet of love, you said "we never shook on it"

i love you, if the feeling is not mutual, please pretend this was a poem

the only apology i want from you, is to have you repeat the names of children we will never have in your parents living room until they *****

we are the same person if you find yourself up at 4am dry heaving promises, or if you are kept awake by the laughter of those who've abandoned you

nobody ever told you that goodbyes taste like the back of stamps

sometimes i'm convinced that the only reason we hug, is so you can check my back for exit wounds

She beckons me,
with fickle hand,
in silken gloves,
to her demand.

Her crown above,
Her veiled face
Her body poised,
with noxious grace.

awaiting now,
Her harsh decree,
i kneel down,
beneath Her feet.

Her hands swing down,
Her gloves grow red,
reopens wounds,
already bled.

She sends me off,
i must comply,
such is my lot,
until i die.

i can't prepare,
i simply wait,
for greedy hands,
i know as Fate.