As I breathed life into your soul
I found myself hollow
Emptied of the zeal I possessed
Before you came
And crossed the narrow bridge I built
For the one brave enough to fall
And you did.

Yet I still feel deserted
As if your coming signaled my sanity to leave
As if you took every last molecule of passion
I have left
And gave nothing in return.

I have so much Love to give
I kept telling myself before You, before Us
And I gave it all

Or threw it all
Away.

I've been collecting dust on the corners of my lips
Until the day you touched my
Hands, knees, shoulders, hips
Parts of me I kept in the dark
So no one can see how easy it is
To find me
And you found this
Mess that I am, that's left of me
And fixed it effortlessly
I allowed your existence
To staple itself into mine
Beautiful, tragic, perfect
Salvaged from my own anxieties
Cradled in the home you built with your arms
Around my waist.
I fell
I kept on falling
And you caught me, timely
Now I'm collecting stardust on the corners of my lips
Wishing you'd never tire
Of holding my hands, knees, shoulders, hips.

"Always"
Is an understatement
For the number of times I think of you

You see,
"Always" doesn't quite understand what it means
To wonder how your smile manages to lock itself
In my heart
And how your voice plays in my head
Like an annoying alarm clock
Whose snooze button I never even care to press
"Always" doesn't understand
The way I see you in every daydream
And the way I fit you into every metaphor
I could ever come up with

So when you asked me if always thought of you
I said, "No."

No, I don't always think of you
I don't have to.

You’re still;
You’ll always be;
A part of me.
The thought of you
hits the spot
like the first time:
warm and easy.
Your home
is in my heart;
custom-made
to fit you
entirely;
still.

Will somebody please break my heart?
I need to create something beautiful and tragic.

I want to write about bones breaking
Bloodless veins dried up after endless nights of tear-soaked pillows
Cold mornings that make you dread ever waking up, mornings that even coffee can't fix

I want to write about the agonizing pain of rejection
Of isolation and desolation
I want to write about the way you (hypothetic lover), effortlessly outshine the stars
And even more effortlessly, outsmart the mess that I am (a messy woman seems more dramatic)

I don't want gardens growing from my skin when you touch me
I want your fingers to create stories and scars I can't undo

I want your anger and your hatred
I need to create something beautiful
So that I can destroy it
So that we can destroy it

Will somebody please break my heart?
I'm running out of disasters to write about.

What if I was funny
What if I wasn't skinny

What if today I didn't think of you

What if my fingers didn't tremble so much
What if my teeth were less crooked
And my laugh was less annoying

What if today I mattered to you

What if everything was the opposite
Of everything
And the sun was brighter at night
And it set in the East

*Would you love me then?

Who cares if it's Monday and it's 2pm
You're on my mind and on my skin
You're gnawing at my bones
Eating through my brain
It's 2pm on a cold Monday
And I miss you.