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There's a difference betwen running
And trying to put something behind you
^copy n paste
This is the only thing  I can figure out to help me over come the past.
Capture my ocean side.
Surf my skin like you'd trace
  your fingers on
  VCR tape.

Wrap your hands
  around my neck,
  until I fade to black--
looking into your eyes.

Capture my ocean side.
  It feels like a diamond
is sinking into my chest.

  I want to hit myself,
until I can't feel anything
but my blue skin smush
underneath my knuckles.
  My fingernails
      kissing my palms.

Capture my ocean side.
  I cannot face what I have
drawn onto my mirror.
What I found measurable,
  has lost scale, has lost
immensely, breathless.

Rewind the tape
  around my neck.
I'd rather not see through
  the film
    or you.

Capture my ocean side.
I want to be buried
beside the river
that drowns you.


The way the sky sits.
Our sleeves
wrapped in wind.
I kiss your lips.
You are my end.


Sequins and swans
on the dress of
the universe.
I want to be warmed
by the galaxy's grasp.


You are my water:
You move beside
and against me.
The night before, she whispered,
"The quickest way to break a heart
is to pretend you have one."

like you've never heard before.
And she sat next to me, radiating.
Her body jumped with every bump,
as foam blossomed out of her mouth.

And I promised her
that I would get her there in time.
And her dealer promised me
he didn't give her anything.

I was howling,
like you and I have never heard before.
And her glazed eyes would open.
And my eyes were wide shut.
Her body lain crooked,
like the antenna of the wrecked car
my grandfather left me.

And I wondered if the planet
was moving too quickly
or if I wasn't moving fast enough -
before I decided the only time
that was real, was now.

The police sirens were howling,
like the suburbs have never heard before.
The wails were begging me to pull over.
And the flashes of red and blue
danced across her ivory skin.
She mumbled to her deceased grandma,
and I asked her to stay.

And in that moment,
I tried to numb myself.
I tried to detach
and let the river carry me.

I was howling,
like the deputy
had never heard before.
I begged for an escort.
I begged to go back into my car.
He looked at her knotted body
but didn't see her like I saw her.
And he told me to remain calm.
He told me to stop yelling -
but I couldn't express enough.
I couldn't release enough desperation.

And the river carried me
to the rocks before the fall.
At the bottom, I knew she was dying,
and this killed me, most of all.

I was howling her name,
like she had heard before -
but not this time.
No, not this time.

The night before, she whispered,
"The quickest way to break a heart
is to pretend you have one."
My mother held me,
and asked what was wrong with my world.
Her rubbery hands in my hair.
"I feel like a plastic narrative," I said,
"and there's nothing I can do about it."
 May 2015 Devon Webb
I know that whatever those
couple weeks of enjoying each other's
company were are over now,
because you ignored me again.
 May 2015 Devon Webb
 May 2015 Devon Webb
Why does ***** go hand in hand
with that ache in the pit of your
It's like it's filling up
the empty space someone left
I guess I just feel sick
because I don't understand
what happened.
What did I do?
 May 2015 Devon Webb
Megan Grace
******* how did you
make me never want
to be touched touched
touched please do not
look at me please do
not breathe near me i
used to crave hands
like they were homes
and i was traveling the
country but now i can't
imagine someone ever
putting their palms on
me or near me i've
been stopping to make
sure all the air intended
for my lungs has been
making it there but i'm
struggling with it every
day when will i be okay
when will i look at another
person and not try to find
you in their laugh lines
and unshaved face when
will i be sewn up from
the inside out i think you
ripped out all of my
stitching a long time ago
this is a disgusting mess but i'm not sorry
Maybe when you stop writing about her/him,
When every dead letter is no longer addressed to her/him.
When you stop hoping that she/he is the recipient of your bottled up feelings as a message in a bottle.

Or maybe,
You will not.
A part of them will always linger, she/he will be braided with your emphatic soul.
She/he will be the ember that slowly fades with the darkness, but still remains as remnant ashes.
Maybe you just learn to unlove her/him.
But deep down you know,
you will always love her/him.
She/he is,
balanced, unequal, all the same to me,
Each of them forms
Of reciprocity.

I give, you take,
I deal, you shake.

Stolen my heart,
Taken my brain,
I believe I've gone completely insane.

Kiss me on the cheek,
When I go for the lips.
The both of us,
Aren't invested in this.
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