stop setting me up
for redemption,
sometimes i just
want to burn off
my own sins.

Don't promise me stars.
They are not within your
Reach.

I would be happy with the
Constellations freckled
And trailing down your
back.

Suicide was her seventh grade kiss that didn't let go when she did.

Suicide was the brightest star in the sky. Every night she would pick it out among the rest.

Suicide was the white around her eyes. You saw it when you looked at her, but it never stood out to you

Until her iris turned black.

December came and went
without notice of your departure.

but when January rolled around and fruit cake and sparkling lights no longer littered my home, it felt empty and i remembered how full and intense your presence was and how i longed for what we almost,
but never fully, had.

i'll be dancing on your tightrope
praying that the winds don't change

I became so contempt
with watching the performance
that I forgot my cue.

The show went on.

you have the type of laugh
that makes people gravitate
towards you and stay awhile.
and your eyes always looked
easily up at me, your veins;
tree roots. we always come back.