You smell like cigarettes and old books,
Taste like the salt of regret.
Eyes as brown as your leather jacket,
Silence as cold as the night we spent
Laughing and kissing.

I should have known-
The night was so cold and you
Covered my shoulders as if to
Distract me from the ice behind
Your warm embrace.

I should have known-
You only looked me in the eye
When physicality transcended
And you had me in your grasp.
Lust is the only emotion
Eyes don’t betray.

I should have known-
Brown is so warm.
Yet you love the snow.

you are a grave and I am the flowers
you wait for me ever so softly...
I try to be pretty, you try to remember
just let your brain melt out so smoothly...
there is no more grass surrounding your tombstone
and I struggle hard to survive...
You reach up and pull me under the soil
"come on, you're a waste being alive."

Can we just sit alone in the dark
and talk about the world?
The dreams you had, bright as the sun
shimmering in your eyes.

You had a dream, you say,
where you and I were snuggled in bed
city lights flickering outside the window
but inside, all was safe and sound.

This could never be so
as we are separated by miles and miles
but we entertained the fantasy anyway
with your warmth next to mine.

You imagine me kissing you on the mouth
I imagine you nuzzling my throat
we can talk all we please
but it may not ever be so.

Yet, we made a promise still
to sleep in that dark room together
with the city glowing in the night
for us to be sleeping soundly.

And, for now, we will speak through screens
and texts, and written words and smiles
until that bed is ours, and we can doze off
into the milky orb of infatuation and oblivion.

you rock me
like the wind on an old sailboat
and i'm thrown off my balance
tilting from one toe to the other
tenuously tightroping above a terrible tide
with a smile plastered on my fragile face
so you don't know
that i'm hurting inside
that i'm dying inside
and my words never seem to amount
to anything at all
you hear them
and you answer
but do you really mean what you say?
would you really run away?
with me?
well,
i'm still here
and you're still
there
way over
there
and i miss you
but you rock me
and i don't know if i'll make it
to the end of december

you just left
and for a while
i curled up on the couch
onto the exact cushion
where we had just left our mark
and i cried
quiet hiccupy sobs
and then  
after a bit
i sat right up
and wiped my eyes
and glazed over for a bit
staring at the putty blue adhesive stains
from the posters we hung up
that fell
hung up
and fell
and then i started cleaning
stacked the wine bottles back on the shelf
put the guitar back in its case and the ashes in the can
picked up the ******* and socks and sweaters
that were thrown away carelessly onto the floor
when passion took hold
before we crawled naked under the sheets
under the little white lights
under the hanging paperclips and old ballet shoes
and twisted our limbs round one another
which shook with every second longer our eyes looked into the other
and you said
You are an angel.
You probably won't tell me though, because you're not allowed.
But that's okay, I know.
and i,
slightly above you
with your head in my hands
looked at the four freckles sprinkled upon your arm
and watched the veins in your wrist pulse each time you squeezed my thigh
and brushed through your wild hair with my fingers
that went down to the scar near your right eye
-the bluest of eyes-
and i,
i knew i would be holding you in my arms like this forever
and it made my nose tingle and breath grow deep
so i knew tears were next
but i let them come
and we sat there
together
for a long while
you and i on the couch
but you just left
and i am still
curled up on the couch.