O beautiful
was the werewolf
in his evil forest.
We took him
to the carnival
and he started
crying
when he saw
the Ferris wheel.
Electric
green and red tears
flowed down
his furry cheeks.
He looked
like a boat
out on the dark
water.

I was grown-up for the first time
Sitting at the bar alone.
I left my scarf on, let my
Coat slip off to reveal bare shoulders.
If it was cold that night I never noticed.

We slipped into the car and
Sat breathing the same soundwaves.
I just wanted to be happy.
I just wanted you too look at me with
Older eyes that used to take
My clothes off, that used to keep me
For later.

We sat on the edge of your bed and
Slowly laid ourselves down into
Strange hands; new calluses we never
Felt and new feel
To those same sheets.

I don’t remember the morning overtaking us.

You stood in the doorway.
I cried as I kissed you.
The only night you let your love show.

There was a time of peace
Now a distant memory
These battles have left me wounded
Alone and scarred
Here lying on this ground
In the end, I realize
I was not against any other
I was only at war with myself

It's beautiful, he said.
Rain played its music on his thick, dark coat.
Look at this, it's beautiful.
The winds sprayed mist into his white hair.
He had seen her and it was beautiful.
He had seen her and danced with her.
He had to dance with her.
His thick lensed glasses fogged slightly.
They hadn't let it end, had they? he thought.
It was a beautiful darkness that she had fallen into.
One that froze their memories fresh in her mind.
He looked at the looming mountains in the distance, gray and gloomy with rain.
She had curled her short black hair on their wedding day.
They were in their church, in their city, and everything was how it was supposed to be.
Everything was still how it was supposed to be.
He had seen her blue eyes fade.
He felt her cold, pale hand.
He loved her.
It's just a beautiful day, he said.
Just a gorgeous day.

All i find myself deeply caring for is

the discovery of new poetry

a cigarette on my roof at 12:43 am

the ink inside this pen, the paper underneath my hands

and that shoes inside the dryer noise

within my chest

and for some reason, nothing else sticks to me

it rolls off my skin like water on windows

puddling in front of my feet

darling, you don’t matter - maybe in someone else’s eyes

but in mine, you just don’t matter

*don’t take it so personally

You,
darling,
are my longest
day
and my shortest
night.

They say you hurt
The ones you love
The most.
I wonder how true
That must be.

I can't even bear to think
Of hurting you.
Yet you give out hurt
Like its a hobby.

With all the pain
You've put me through
You must love me
More than I could ever
Love you.