He said, “I want you.”
I then asked him, “Why?”
“You’re carefree about everything,
“And you always make me smile.”
I frowned at his answer
Not even knowing how
He had found it so quickly
Without figuring me out
I then knew that was the only side
He saw and would like to see
And I don’t want to pretend for someone
Who wouldn’t want the rest of me

Black sky swallowed whole by dead dreams while blacker lungs succumb to inevitability,
And I remain seated watching heaven for a sign that grows grayer by the hour
Pluck my mortality from between the branches of the tree I tried to hide in and tattoo its signature in thick black letters down both of my arms -
A DAY WILL COME
And I remain
Tracing the trajectory of comets with drowned ocean eyes in the shifting desert sands,
Sifting through piles of physical copies of moments I could only experience in retrospect,
Reading fortunes in the cracks of skin well lived in with my own bloodied hands,
Flirting with mirrors to exchange my identity with the gilded prophet adorning the poster on a dorm room wall,
Drinking down the chalice of my coronation only to recoil in horror at the king I become
I asked for every second of this, don't let me tell you any different
When the clouds break and the face of creation stares back at me I will not blink
I will broadcast my downfall on every television screen and sickened memory,
I will hang my shame from prescription medication gallows,
I will press the traitors brand deep into my torn chest,
And I will not blink
I will stand by my ruined kingdom and I will wear the weight of my failure 'round my neck,
This is the only vow I can be sure of
Fill my pockets with dead spirits before I jump into the river to be carried to judgement,
And remember my face, in case you never see it again
A day will come,
Keep your eyes to the sky
Watch for me

I was driving down an old road this morning, one hand clenched to the handle of a porcelain coffee cup, one hand clenched to the wheel; digging my nails into the rubber. I've always hated driving, it was always a better place to be sitting in the passenger seat, your hand enfolded in mine. Im rolling through stop signs hoping maybe a car will hit their brakes a moment too late. Each road line painted a bright yellow, the kind that reminded me of a sun we used to watch rise off the balcony of our house. I didn't want to think about it too much, it would of brought me back to a better time and place than now but they always told me to keep my eyes on the road. It was easy to do until I passed by this field of yellow daisies, the kind that were printed on the spring sheets we'd wrap ourselves in on the mornings that rain kissed the roof. The kind that decorated the church on the day that I made a promise on forever. A forever that should of lasted longer than sickness can control.
The golden sun grazed it's rays over the old barn where we once sat in hay bails and counted constellations. The rays were blinding, but so was the memory that lit up with them. The yellow dress your mother wore on the day we lay you down 6 feet too deep. The day a rock became your welcome mat. The day I couldn't find the right way to say goodbye.
I was driving this morning. I'm laying in a hospital bed now. I'm sorry that the yellow lights of that truck drew me in. Somehow I saw you smiling at me through them. As I lay on the pavement in pools of red, the yellow lines of the road by my side, heartbeat coming down till all I can hear is the softness of your voice; I finally felt like maybe this is the only way home.

Sometimes I fear
I will run out of things to write about.
Often I fear,
I already have.

She feels his waves lap up her. Her boat rocks side to side
He knows he's wasting his time. He can't force the pride to slide

The months they feel like years. Her timing has always been off
The flame he carries inside him burns the gas she won't turn off.

She kids herself into thinking that she's better off where she is
He rarely gets closer than arms length. Cos she likes him where he is.

She knows that she could be happier. But comfort wins for now
But he tells her the same, there's a name for this game but he can't recall it right now.

He goes out with his heart locked up and the key she keeps in her purse
Guess she didn't know she had it but he hid it somewhere in this verse

Fearful of the consequences of his affections

If he's not at work, he's thinking of the things he might have said
To some how keep her from slinking into another mans bed.

So he waits upon her shore. He stands here every day
His throat is getting sore from trying to scream the clouds away

But he doesn't see the rain, creep up behind his back
Each poison drop could **** his crop and leave his scorched earth black.

She throws around her colours once more and grey gives way to blue.

I wanted to write your name down in blood
over and over and over
on slabs of gold and stone
but you prefer to be left alone.

I wanted to build a monument of your face
to overlook your land, your tribes, your home
but you prefer to be left alone.

Instead, I wrote your name on lavender sands,
your birth date on the golden change of winds,
my love for you on the sunset over the Indian Ocean.

I wrote everything for you
on places of scatter
and on places of dissolve.

I wanted to leave your mark on the world
but realized the irony in such
because you are already aligned
with the rising sun and setting moon,
you are already an endless cycle of life and death.

Still, I want to write you down in history
but you don't want to leave your mark on the world,
you don't want your coming and going announced.

To leave my mark on the world,
you said,
I would first have to injure it,
disturb the status quo,
but I would rather be left alone.

It hasn't rained this hard in months, the window is tasting the wrath of the sky and I am laying, clothed in empty. Have you ever felt the weight of lids against your eyes? It's almost like the closing of the curtain after a play that should have never ended. I guess that's how I feel tonight. It's the first time that the tremble of lightning shakes the house and I don't miss you. It's the first time that the thoughts inside my head are being drown out by rain. Maybe this is why there are storms, maybe everyone is a little empty. I've always loved the roaring of thunder; I never loved you.