you’re not too sensitive.
you’re not overreacting.

if it hurts you,

it hurts you

you smell of spice and rosemary,
a smell i can't shake off.
it fills my lungs with exposure of you,
and releases words i can't get out.

what a culprit you are,
coming and stealing my heart,
i needed that you fool,
i was going to give it to you.

another drag through jagged teeth,
manhandling my body with precision.
lips glittering with the wet from your tongue,
piercings blundering my soul.
continue to make your move against me,
i am numb to all feelings you may hold.
wrap me up and throw me to the dogs,
before you take all humanity.

It's been a year
Since you broke me
The first time.
Yet, your expresso eyes
Are still the only ones I
Want
To see past the fog of
mine.

I wish I could hate you
Oh how simple that would be
But I can't
When the only thing you didn't do
Right
Was love me the way
I love you.

love unconditional,
coming of age,
sweet kisses,
bright eyes,
comfort and bliss.

sing me to sleep with gem colored eyes,
your soft lullabies hushing my cries.

the gentle white feathers of a snow colored dove,
are as your arms wrapped around me with love.

i feel you with the morning sun,
together we can be as one.

i.
i still feel you in those times when i can drain the pain from my veins just long enough to smile, before it rips my skin and crawls its way back into my blood stream.

ii.
you are every poem i have ever written about love in a nutshell. you are so **** pretty. your pretty is a shredder, still ripping me to particles when all i want to do is sleep. forever.

iii.
i'd sing no doubt but you don't speak anyway. if i disregarded that though, would you see the irony? would you see that what i mean is i love you, i love you, i freaking love you, and i'm sorry i didn't try hard enough.

iv.
i still think you weave words like blankets for newborn angels. even when the blanket is wool, and it's itchy, and god babe, was that last poem about me? because if so, i want to ask if i'm a baby angel or if i'm just one or the other, a baby or an angel. because right now i don't feel like either, i just feel lost.

v.
you make me sick.

vi.
not because i don't love you.

vii.
i'd prefer you burn me with words instead of whipping my already scarred heart with silence. now my wings are falling off and i am falling apart with them. the cloud i'm floating on is pitch black and its on a pathway to something horrible.

viii.
i define fragility with silent sobs in the back of my throat. my wrists still throb even though for almost a year, i've been totally clean. the amount time i've been clean is coincidentally very close to coinciding with the amount of time i've known you, and i don't know if ever knew you because i never thought you'd just go like this.

ix.
i left for you. almost everything i do is for you- why don't you understand?

x.
i'm still not ready to say goodbye so the change in the weather tries to do it for me. it says that a new season means a new life, and since i didn't know how to live without you in the old one, maybe now i can learn to live without you in this new one.

xi.
this is almost a goodbye. one day, maybe it will be.