Act One
Scene: a blue room with white curtains all drawn together tight
A broken record player filling my mouth with buzzing noise
You sit on the couch the way a queen sits on a conquered city
My eyes blind themselves with the dark of your hair

Time: When the sun and the moon collide

This is the part where I meet you
Where I really meet you
Where I get to know the inside of your cheek
The beating of your fluttery heart
The bruises on your sides like blooming roses
The soft hush of your words melting into my mouth

We play at lovers in a game that isn't our own

Act Two
Scene: Flashing lights sending the room into a flurry of technicolor madness
A bottle of ***** burning my throat like swallowed wooden matches
In a sea of movement you turn into a deity all on your own
My hands shake from the inside out and it is nothing, it is nothing

Time: When the waves engulfed the shore

This is the part where I hate you
Where I don't really hate you
But I hate him and him and her and him
And the way you are holding on to bones that are not my own
The clawing at my chest
The blood spinning in my head
The way you mean everything to me
And I don't even cast a shadow in your world
The way you shine and all I can do is long

I never meant for jealousy to wear my skin like a tailored suit

Act Three
Scene: An empty street and a lonely light
Jagged bricks digging into the soft part of my neck
You lean on a car and you don't look me in the eye
My tongue bleeds from all the words I cannot say

Time: When the stars fall from the sky

This is the part where I lose you
Except that I don't really lose you
Because in order to lose something, you must first have it
And I never had you
But I did keep your butterfly laugh in the cracks between my ribs
Your favorite lipstick in the pocket of my jacket
The broken shards of your full length mirror buried in my hands

I knew some people always loved more, always loved less, but I never knew you didn't love at all

Act Four
Scene: a blue room with white curtains all drawn tight
A broken record player imitating life
You are nowhere to be found  and yet your ghost keeps popping around
My spine creaks from the weight of the world, of love, of you

Time: When the moon stills sing for the morning light

This is the part where I wait for you
Where I really wait for you
Because I am stupid and naive and hopelessly hopeful
And maybe it's pathetic
But I'm still waiting for the sound of your heavy footsteps
Your red sweater on my desk
The warmth of your presence
For you to love me back

I'm still waiting for you to come back

The thing about love
See
Is that it can be everything, and nothing
Everywhere, and nowhere
Too much, and not enough.
All at once.
And it's hard to remember the beauty of the fire
After it burns and maims your skin.
But oh, but oh.
The beauty was there. The fire was there.
And the burn will never truly heal.

Every day, these walks get longer.
Every hour, these hands, they tremble.
Every minute, these eyes get weary.
Every second, this existence is fading.

As light approaches this darkened room,
We are shrouded in to the fog of melancholy.
Devoured by misery, consumed by life,
Slowly and slowly we burn into nothingness.

These gaps exist with the soul of our hearts.
The void of joylessness approaches.
All these *** that emotions can’t afford,
Our tears are kept in a jar.

What sick, ****** contagious lives we have.
We are fools to the repetitious cycle of despair.
We continue to gaze at the fields of the condemned.

How about a cigarette for us to breathe?
But let us quench into the foolishness of life.

You could not help but fall for her
Despite warnings from every cell of your brain
You could not contain
Your curiosity
How could someone be
Different shades of different emotions
At the same time
How could someone go
From being the blazing sun
To a violent storm
In the blink of an eye
And that was the trouble with her
You could not tell the next thing she does
And there were many with a prettier face than her
And a few with soul more tender
But none that could stir
A single emotion
While
One look from her
Caused ripples in your soul
The longing she developed
Became insatiable
Cause she was not the caresses and soft kisses sort
She would make sure you meant
Every compliment you uttered
Before she accepted them
She would ask why
You loved her
Instead of saying I love you too
She was never just simply pretty
You know the kind you put on your shelves
For a show
She was not just one element
but the whole package
Something you had never witnessed before
She had fire
Her  feelings weaved silent poetry
All around her
And everyone who saw her could see that
Everyone but herself
Her thoughts were too loud
-loud enough to make the deaf-toned world hear them
She was reckless personified
Descending towards nothing
And you would gladly go down with her
If it only gave you  few more moments to have her look into your eyes
Black eyes
Not seeing at you
But through you
Making you unravel yourself
She could not be bound to a place
She was the wind
that ruffles your hair
caresses your skin
and sweeps your tears off your cheeks
and fly away
just like that
leaving you fixated
on that spot
waiting for her to hit you again
but she is already gone
You never wanted to love her
Yet here you are
Loving her anyway.

My apartment still smells like cigarettes from Saturday
when a couple girls with crop-top ambitions
drank themselves through flip cups and through guys’ eyes
who purposely landed on their belly-buttons.
I might have stood on the couch to sing that song,
but I’ve fallen for you all wrong. After another remix,
everyone left and we played footsies while leaning
in the doorway of my bathroom, the wood trim chipping
but your smile brightening in the yellow overhead light.
And I promised I wouldn’t find myself
come Monday morning sitting here with my knees knocking,
and knocking, and knocking themselves back into my brain
that keeps reminding my heart that we expired last season,
and that it’s just too **** late.
I promised myself I wouldn’t wipe my tears on my sweatshirt sleeves,
or run my toes on the tile, or breathe in another toxic pack
of what I essentially believe is you. You are the *** I pour myself into.
You are the chance I keep giving myself seconds of.

I know I shouldn’t have separated myself that quickly, or without notice,
but honestly I didn’t know how to attach myself to someone
unless it was delicate and barb-wired together. I’m sorry I ******* it up,
back then, before the mess, wherever you’d like to pinpoint
the blame on our timeline
but you are the only chance I keep giving myself seconds of.
So I’ll distance myself between my body and this frame,
cut out text-message screen shots and paste them to my frown
so maybe I can remember what it was like to smile
without ******* cigarette smoke between my teeth.

She sits outside
And cries her tears
Wondering when her
Angel will appear
And when it would 
If it could please 
Take away her sadness and misery
After hours and hours
Her angel had finally come
He said " oh my dearest 
Why are you trying to?" 
She said to her angel
"I am not beautiful,
They all call me dull and ugly" 
He said "don't you listen to them
They don't know beauty rests under mayhem
They all can't quite see 
What's under contsruction
That beauty rests under most present
Only after destruction