i'll sleep with you tonight
so i can try to find
some extra time
to buy myself
an extra life
so i can make you feel alive.
so i can bring you back to life.

i go to sleep at half past nine
so you find me asleep just fine
like you have at least every other night
since our last fight

i'll try to make my best amends.
i'll try and try and try again.
until you can finally find the lies
that you were living in

when you finally saw through to me
i swore that i could cross the sea.
but i never saw it truthfully.
i told you that i'd be just fine
when i felt like i would die
i told you that i'd be alright
so i could comfort you at night
so alongside you, i could lie
for the rest of my life.

i slept with you every night
just so you could try to fight
and live to see the burning light
of the rising sun at its height

i'll sleep with you again tonight
like we did, before you died.

i'll sleep with you every night
and try to find some peace of mind
i'll miss you every single night.
until the night that i can find
myself laying by your side.
until the night i finally die.

~

p.s. i loved you, at least a little

our goldfish memories
are broken
shattered dreams

of a cabin
in the woods

we scavenged
all we could
-
your mirrored reveries
of gold plates
and sweetened tea

in a palace
in the woods

you shattered
what you could

i think it's high time,
that we go,
back to the place,
that only we know.

i think that sometimes,
you don't know,
just where to go-
or how to grow.

i think it's high time,
that i know,
just how you feel,
it never shows.

i think it's about time,
that it snows.
so we can waste our lives
in the frozen grove.

i'll think of more rhymes,
just to cope.
i hope i die.
i hope you don't.

it's almost nine,
it's getting cold.
i called your phone,
but you declined,

so much for the grove.
i hope it never snows.

i think it's high time,
that i die.
all alone
in mid july.

like death from above;
you left me,
bereft of thought.
as if blessed by a devil,
or behest from a god.
your lullabies used to fit like a glove,
as long as they were stories without plot.
just like our made up memories of swans and doves.
they twisted and turned,
like the noose that we tied,
around what we swore wasn't our love.

Feeling memories of soft voices floating across the arid forests that are my memories of you,
Through the bleak terrain I see you, and your all too elusive smile.
Please come back, I think it'd be wonderfully unhealthy for my state of mind.
It's not often someone says "I love you." without thinking they mean it, but I think I do.
Trance-like remembrances of curly hair and deep thoughts permeate my head,
And I cannot help but wish that life was something that it is not,
Because it is worth the while, through mind's eye staring at your ghost.

i've given in
to your selfish pride
i don't know
how to apologize
for my selfless lies
i never meant
to make you cry
why'd you even
let me
try

i love to scar,
with a heart too soft,
and lost thoughts too far-off.
on ripped paper,
i think too endlessly.
with a mind bursting at the seams,
longing for a heart full of gold,
to rip me from my daydreams.
to open my view, to see,
with eyes far too cold,
to see anything we could've been.

What I can give is more than you can take.
I love you.
Alone in life, we've only made a few mistakes.
I hate you.
All inside, a gutterpipe dreamscape.
Love *****.
My ***** mirror has never looked so clear.
Love rules.
For every denial, grow two checkmates.
I love you.
It was just a gutterpipe dreamscape.
I hate me.
What we made, an inkling of what we could create.
Die young.
Eyes never locked, our stares were blank.
Live forever,
Together. In our gutterpipe dreamscape.

you're nothing.
you know,
i know,
i'm nothing.

i'm nothing.
you're something.
i know,
you know,
we're nothing.

we know.
we're something.

walk with the wind,
against the water's current.
trudge towards your gutter.
***** others in blind hope,
hope to high godless heaven,
that you're mad enough to pass as a purist.
...---...
find your gutter, close the shutters,
hide until the heavy wind deadens.
let your safe haven cave in,
bask in the mindless clutter.
become a fallen angel in your own armageddon.
-
...---...

I'm going back
to the start,
I don't know
where we fell apart,
But I'm so glad
that you broke my heart.
Ripped it up,
tore it apart,
took the pieces
and made it into art.

All you had to do was ask,
I've almost left.
You're almost here, ethereal.
It's all in your head,
I'm sorry I'm no longer in your bed.
But can I get your numbers again?
It was only a few words I said,
Sorry that I was mistaken,
Can you banish them from your head?
In the morning I'd make you bacon,
I'd even serve it with toasted bread.
It could be a perfect meal when you awaken,
But that's an If Only, because you're already dead.

Crippling ideas and curiosities spark my emotional engine to turn long forgotten gears back into action as I look at pictures of her.
The soft lips softly speaking words that were violently engraved into my thoughts, ironically contrasting the simple meaning, helping me remember and overthink them yet again, months after she ruined me.

a kiss
a cry

i'll miss
your smile
i loved
your eyes
such sweet
designs

i fell
you climbed
drop by
sometime

we kissed
we cried
i'll miss
your smile

this is
goodbye

why do i bother writing these words down,
when all i get in return is a lost soul and a self roll.
write on and write black and white swan songs,
on and on, all for someone who's already gone.

in a heady state, steady gazing.
exuding grace, with an awkward gait.
animating in me, a struck state,
coquetting, a wonderfully befuddling face.

I always treated you,
Better than you treated me,
I could see you didn't care.
Treatment is life's social key,
It can lift away all the hurt and despair.
I was drowning, and I tried to make you see,
But then again, you didn't care.
I'll remember when we carved our names in my heart,
But I hope I'll never remember where.
Because I'm trying not to care.

Can eyes boil?
Frothy, glazed gazes,
Steaming into all-seeing clouds.

Minds can melt, I'm sure.
Flowing into tendrils of emotion,
Searching for victims to soothe.

Hearts cannot sing, cannot weep,
With tears forming worlds, purely out of desire,
Creating remembering ebbs, longing for limerence.

i've hated everybody
since polaroids of fake friends and birthdays
decorated the inside of my locker door
ever since i'd empty the medicine drawer
take too many pills, then take more
and be found on my bathroom floor
-
i've loved every person i've ever met
since my wide eyes eyed every girl as a king's bride
ever since my wide mind contemplated your  two iride sunshines
i'd gaze and stare into them until i went blind
and i could've looked into those eyes until the day i died, if i tried
you gave me bright butterflies, like a white river at sunrise
you were the rapid current, and i made sure to capsize

with wide, bright eyes
i'd go wonderblind, every time
obsessed with the gift of your iride skies
even when i cried, even when i tried my best not to lie
you opened your eyes, basking my skies with your iride sunshine
ever since polaroids of shy walks home
and safely locked medicine drawers
you always saved me
under the guise
of iride butterflies~

a set of intense statuses, given
I thought we had simply glanced it
we are a brush fire, consuming days
screaming in braille with a sense of must
in untangling strewn bangles
addressing unfair symptoms
bearing branches instead of gracefulness
imposed a bit of patience
well met intentions growing swollen and red
in arrangements of parasitic mirrorings
faces of attachment for vagrants
twin retainment, co-invested in a growing trench
indecision growing brittle in a ribbed cage
at least we contest it, burning fiefs of similes
in the kingdom of predetermination
all we seem to spurn are attempts to disarrange it
dancing with the wreckage.

Once connected,
Facets jaded, and
Faces faded.

Once departed,
Always behind, but
Never unkind.

Once forgotten,
Love ended, and
Wounds never tended.

warm night,
time to write.
she'll be on soon.
i'll try to be less polite.
we should bring up plans,
since we're so easy to excite.
i'm not a white knight,
she's just frustrated.
i was right,
i'm still being too nice.
how much is the flight?
i guess i'll see her in winter.
don't worry, i'll be alright,
i swear i've done it before.
nothing will happen, not tonight.
no, no, please go ahead.
i've got time, it's only midnight.
my words sound like color?
to me they look black and white.
we've passed all the time,
it's almost light.
i guess it's time for bed,
goodnight.

the champagne starts to taste like ash
as you fast crash, burn and start to rain like dust and soot.
quick, backtrack and rehash where it went wrong.
the vents, did they pop? did they bleed? did they clot?
plunder your gut, misplace your trust and start to let it rot.

you're scared.
you're scared,
why are you so scared?
there'd be no problem if you didn't care.

hair tied with
a nitrile glove cuff
carved a sacred space adorned with muffled tile
porcelain throne pod amongst the ruckus
hohumdrum gods stampeding towards
a visionary empty meeting with screens
greeted with massed bodies, butter, and dust
the divine light behind the porthole still shines
even as crowds continually shuffle forwards
backwards and past, that bouquet of projection rays
remains sheening with eye to light machè heaven
until thunderous overstrokes over indulge and begin
to over and undertone every feather upon ears
resignation of a certain kingship upon standing
and yet wealth of ethic remains demanding
so, stand.

noting notions as a *** boils over
I'm standing dead still
still in the jig, just clinking
plodding soil as expectants fold in
popped then flicked it
pleasant patina of the mechanism
ceramic pulses in useless scripture
miracle unclipping of a dorsal fin
spectators stack irrelevances in several heaps
haphazard riptides in shared seas of subjection pull dully
slipping through and about subtle reactants
bridling a flood, lock sabotage
nil for a filter, sending catalysts roaring into battle
eating wartime victories and empty advice to be immersed in humility
gifted in living the suffering of the freedom of bearing suffrage
warring wingtips against space edges with abruptness

bury myself under the world
hope to death i never meet god
suffocate my brain
stuff it full of pills and shame
to mitigate the pain
hope to high godless heaven
that i can convince myself to go sane

act like god,
think like girl,
never awed.
look like pearl,
feel like fraud.
heart with a hole,
a lonely god.

echoes of ****** ghost town mysteries
  devolving into our lonely synergy
where we can constantly misdemean each other in our gutter schemes
of battling anger with dreams,
  never again to split the seams,
   never again to be seen

please, hear my plea.
i never knew what we could or couldn't be.
  i just wish you could see me
   i am what you almost are and yet everything you're not,
tie my tongue, twist my heart, knot it up and let it rot

"maybe i'll get shot" we stockpiled musings on dying young,
seemingly out of all the time we thought we bought
you are an alleyway thought bay,
  forever haunting me enough to keep all my other ghosts away

  "the world is ending in all my dreams"
  i crushed what i had left of you, you'd never let me stay
we were a walking paradox, never nothing,
always but a dream never to be siezed

"we"
what a lonely synergy

My opinions are quiet,
My strains subdued,
I listen before I speak.
Please, don't take that as rude.

I'm not asleep.
My ears are not closed.
My head is simply down,
With my thoughts undisclosed.

Writing is a way of formulation,
For my poor thoughts, exploring.
On the outside my countenance is dull.
But here in my head, it's anything but boring.

Wandering,
Into the silky sadness.
Traveling,
Into the murky madness.

Bustling,
To the place I waited.
Clinging,
To the same words you hated.

Recurrent words, boiled your blood,
The same that painted my roses red.
But those flowers no longer grow,
Where your thoughts turned sour.
We parted with seeds left to sow,
In strong minds full of power, no more.
Where the rain turns beautiful,
An unusual question becomes an answer.
In a deeply melancholic cave,
The surface of a stoic puddle, turns dancer.

You wake,
I sleep,

You dance,
I dream,

Of all the things,
We couldn't be.

Holding hearts,
Walking apart,

I'll hold you,
Like I need to,

I don't mean to,
I don't need you.

i'm getting tired of it,
waking up once a day,
feeling dead and forever unpleasant.
i love too much,
i'm not much pride to swallow.
let your roots grow into me,
feel yourself waste away.
we wept, sea between beds,
always but a dream never to be seized,
nothing is forever.

"He was not unwhole, merely bent and jaded. And though he held nothing but love for those around him, the darker details bled through. Hindered from an honest delivery of his gratefulness and his grievance, he withdrew into himself.
The darker facets fulfilled his quiet desires of complexity but cost him his emotional presence; cold but comfortable.
He lost his happiness, his memories,
His charm, and above all else,
He lost his time.
His eyes grew sad,
His fingers wrinkled.
Though his eyes remained sharp,
His heart had been lost to atrophy.
Another person to love more than anyone could love him, is what he wanted, but never got.
To fall in love again was the escape,
An open and powerful rebellion against the vast sorrow that imprisoned him.
And so he tried his hand, sad eyes sought for someone to pour into.
He found none, but some found him.
Twisted and attractive, they wove together long conversations and hints of double meanings. They even almost learned how to care, but didn't.
Even among those he wished only to love, and only to gift,
He could never feel free.
For they hated him,
And so did he."

red bathwater
momma's gone
never gave her daughter
that gift she bought her
doesn't make her a monster
she thought she was stronger
but she just couldn't take it any longer

His mother's gift was not desirable.
All that he really wanted,
Was something soft,
Something short,
Something sweet,
Something that wouldn't make his nose bleed.

A talk,
With someone,
Whom you love.
Always turns sour,
But only for you.

A cake,
Imaginary.
Only two files,
And a coat of paint,
Deep blue.

A drink.
Maybe two.
Caught up,
Remembering regrets.
Maybe a few.

A smile,
A day saved,
Pasts destroyed.
Heart enslaved,
By an open world view.

i love the universe-
but she makes my conscience hurt.
she turns me around,
and she pins me down.
it makes me feel like dirt.

i try not to love her,
but she whispers such sweet words.
and when she starts to flirt,
i start to convert,
and it makes it so much worse.

i hate the universe-
she's someone that i don't deserve.
she starts to get manic,
and i turn panic,
and every word starts to sound rehearsed.

she is my universe-
and every time that we converse,
my thoughts turn perverse,
her mind inverts,
and my fragile heart starts to burst.

i want to take you to a babbling creek.
to play hopscotch on lily pads,
and maybe dance through cattails,
to forget what makes us sad.

i'm just a blip,
just a glitch,
an oddity in a system of regret.
an event that someone's trying to forget.

"I'll tell you a secret if you tell me three."
She was lying, of course,
she'd spill the beans.