Glass is seeping through my fingers
stealing a free ride on ice cold blood
these window panes are asking for forgiveness
while your front door is seeking revenge.

You cannot walk quick enough into the abyss of the night
before it swallows you whole
roaring back with a rigid teethed grin
and a kind stab to the back.

It is cold as hell
if your heart were to freeze hell over
I am dying slowly
thank you for loving me at least once
at least when both our lips were lost
and our hearts swollen with patches of frigid deep blue
the same way it seemed
every time we kissed
you'd leave sweet frostbite

You are frozen solid
yet somehow the only way I can keep warm.

I trace memories the way I used to trace your lips
I hold pillows tight to my chest at night
The way I still haven't gotten to hold you
I whisper fragments of poems to myself
The way I used to whisper them in your ear
I still do all the same things I used to do
Hoping it will be enough
Until you come home again

The way wink sounds more like wince under six feet of dirt.

Sorry.
Five simple letters with the ability to twist my tongue into a jigsaw no **** kid would have the audacity to crack.
I'm sorry for never telling you I loved you.
I'm sorry I was so fixated on being destroyed that I couldn't comprehend that you could have kept me safe.
I'm sorry I check my heartbeat like clockwork,
But the aftermath of every close call is a permanent feeling of running out of time.
I apologize for holding your hand like your skin could possibly be anything but desirable to me.
Truth be told
I always liked the way you felt like an inside-out cigar.
I miss the way you breathed my pain like it was second hand smoke.
I'm sorry all I had to offer you was a busted frame and a hollow interior.
And I'm sorry I was too afraid to even give you that.
I'm sorry I treated your patience like a burden
For making you believe your smile was something I could choke on.
You were my proof that happiness doesn't only come in pill form
And I've been trying to drown these butterflies you left running through my head.
I killed the ones in my stomach the first time you put your arm around me.
I'd give anything to have them back.

I want to rewind it all.
I'm watching the snow fall out my window and I can't help but daydream about catching it on my tongue all those years ago.
Back when I'd breathe onto windows so I could draw pictures, back when the whole world was my canvas.
It seems the whole world's already been colored in though, like there's no more room left for us dreamers.
I read a poem in junior high asking where dreams go, but now I care more about where the dreamers went.
I want to rewind it all.
Back to when I thought the sky was another world's ocean,
Back before I had ever heard the word stratosphere or had failed a biology test.
I want life to be recorded on a VCR, little green and red buttons putting my mind at ease.
Then again, I haven't owned a VCR in years...