the way your arm would wrap around me
like a snake with a mouse.
I was never really certain if you were going to
embrace me
or
crush me to an oblivion.

He looked at me with eyes
that stabbed my chest.
                                                       "Sometimes it's not the guns,
                                                           ­                                                that **** you."
He said,
and then those eyes,
the ones that stabbed my chest,
filled with tears
                                                           ­     "Sometimes it's the goodbyes."

The spaces between us are filled by smoke
and pools of blood
you inhale poison
while I bleed out my exhales
our broken pieces,
fitting together like shards of glass
tragic back stories,
nights spent on the phone
you say you love me
but i know the lighters come first
I tell you we are perfect together
but my razors kiss my skin
instead of your lips
I know you love her
even though she sees the bottom of the pipe
while I see your eyes
baby you are better then the tar at the end of a blunt
**** it,
if it takes a gallon of superglue,
and a million packs of cigarettes
I swear to you, we will be okay.

She is gone.
Pack importance neatly away,
Strike dumb the dialogue,
Blur the details,
Lay dreams in the dark.
Dismantle the stage,
Make each player retire,
Tear up scripts,
Hush all ad libs and quips.
Lose joy in white noise,
Forget breath,
**** desire —
Let all souls expire.
No beauty awaits,
Beyond pearly gates.
Kick out the chair,
Let me swing in dead air.

"Everyone's dying, but we're doing it faster."

Under a tree
In a park
A city once unknown
I buried a part of me

I wanted to leave myself there
In order to bring myself back
To feel the magic of the city
Once again I’ll find myself under that tree, I swear

I left pieces of my heart
In London, Oxford, Bath
I’m ready to move on, live my life
It’s in that city where I buried myself I’ll have my start

Maybe I write to rhyme
in meter and fair time,
I'll use cryptic phrasing
to describe my vision hazing.
Perhaps I'll run away
inside the words I say,
or bring you back
and not give you flack.
I could alliterate life
and cloak the fearsome strife.
But tonight I'll write
to forget our fight;
imagining your smile
or us playing a while.
You don't know it
but I am a poet,
wrapping you up in
my web, not so thin