She stopped breaking laws when she
started breaking hearts

Bottled tears in the vial around her neck
She lays in bed like a spider in their web

They say curiosity killed the cat but in this story
Curiosity killed you

And you love kissing her because she is not like the others
She does not pull away out of shame

She kisses hard like brick on brick on window pane
no face aflame

And you love ******* her because she does not hide away
Begs you more more more

She stopped breaking laws when she
Started breaking hearts

The truth of it is-

he's not going to fix you

she's not going to make you forget
the way your father would hit you

He is not going to make your collarbones sprout roses
He will not make you forget how to need

The truth of it is-

She is not a savior
She is not able to fight off the demons in your dreams

He will not make you forget the way your mother left
The bloodstains in the bathtub will still be there

The truth of it is-
This is your life
This is not a movie

No one is going to swoop in and save you

You will have to grow your own wings if you want to fly away

We both love things like creeping ivy
we swallow it all whole

I once broke your jaw in my sleep
because I dreamt it would make you soft-spoken

and I feel like a bull barreling down a thin hallway
and you are sleek black paint jobs

and I am just your unexpected ****** nose
spilling out onto the pavement and
dripping on your pressed button up shirt

I am this acid on your tongue slowly melting
and you wish I’d do it quicker
because I leave a bad taste in your mouth

and im sorry for that

I never meant to step on your toes with my
heavy boots
and this 35 pound heart

and this skin that seems to grow and fade from view
because I am in the midst of becoming invisible

and just last Thursday I walked through my first wall

But I guess you would know a thing or two about that

because I haven't seen you in over two months
so would you tell me where you disappeared to?

I hope you choke on the names of our would be children
when it happens to cross into your thoughts
the few nights you don't sink into bed ****** out of your mind

I hope you ***** down the hallway thinking of me
I hope you never make it to the bathroom on time
I hope your stomach acid burns like a ripcord up your trachea

You told me no one had good ***** like I did
And he said it, too
Every last time I cheated on you

Just remember you betrayed me first
Told me to **** someone to put equality back into the universe

It's sad to say I did it out of spite
I could have been loyal

Instead we let each other become driftwood
burning blue and green
and floated away without a fight

We were the mystery
We were the shaking of heads
We were the whispers in the bathroom at 11 am

We were the smoke in the hallways

We were the leaves catching on air currents
like "I don't care how or why but I'm going somewhere"

We were balled up bills in the crook of
someone's sweaty Xanax palm

We were the lamps at night burning
We were the lasers on the ceiling
We were the lines of chemicals waiting on the counter

We were nothing good
nothing but mud and regrets on our feet

The teachers shook their heads
wondered to themselves how we ever got to sleep

You told me the first time you ever met me
you knew you had to have me
I wonder when you realized I wasn’t some limited edition video game
that you could turn on and then leave for later

I guess never because all you ever did was play me

I fell in love with the sound of your name on my tongue
like a shiny copper penny dropping on hardwood floor

a l e x
al-EX-and-eR
ALEX

I fell in love with your 6’2 frame and the way
I could have sipped wine from your collarbones if I had desired to

Your favorite drink was strawberry *****
and I have to admit after drinking a whole bottle
in the shower with you one night
I’m a little partial to it now too

We started dating October 12, 2012
and our clothes fell off eight days later in your waterbed,
three days short of my sixteenth birthday

and that was the same day I met your mother
who hugged me and told me how beautiful I was

I wonder how long you wanted to return me
to get at least half of a refund

I’m not really sorry you never got your money and time back
You were never a game to me
I never pressed pause on you

They fell
from the
sky with
one thing in mind,
to play tag
and I was
the first one
they hit and
now am tagging soaked

I don't go to church
Nor do I want to.
I don't believe
In anything in particular.
And yet the word god
Shows up in my poetry like it's put there intentionally.
It isn't.
Perhaps it is just that god
Is a perfect metaphor for how I love
And in trying to explain it,
The zeal of religion is the best comparison I can think of.
In fact
It makes me wonder,
If we are in god's image,
Is god
Like us?
Maybe that is why our prayers are seldom answered-
Maybe whatever god there is
FEARS us, for loving it so devotedly.
Maybe god is not dead.
Maybe god has fled.

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f