Souls seeped through the
c u t s
on my skin,
luring you in.
But I miss the
warmth
of your heart,
it was my favourite melody.

I'll curl up on the floor,
with sunlight intruding like a
wolf
*** ti n g
for my icy bones,
but you'll be there to stand your ground,
fingertips writing poetry on my spine.

And these words are all I have left
        And these words are all I have left

of you

It’s days like these that I feel the worst about everything I do.
Cheerful cherry blossoms spiral around my black cloud,
landing apologetically on my slouching shoulders.
The birds seem to quiet as I pass by,
refusing to meet my frigid eyes.
It’s the same routine,
addicted like nicotine.

Days pass by and my spiteful poetry grows,
prisoners screaming behind muffled reminders.
All they yearn for is to be as free as the tide
slowly teasing,
yet one day we will become those crashing waves,
luring other dreamers to awake from the haze.

I knew a girl who would write sadness across her arms,
along her waist,
down her thighs,
and out through her toes
in hopes that one day,
she too would be free.

On tuesday
I drank tea with a skeleton named Eileen.
Her fingers were long
and her lips were drawn
like a frown, unable to move.
It was a sad sight to see
and it convinced me to be
happy
no matter what the weather.

A boy told me he loved me the other day.
I looked at him, confused,
and told him not to love me.
Not to waste something so valuable on something so insignificant.
So he simply put his arms around my broken bones and told me instead,
“I adore you.
I adore all your quirks,
I adore all your dreams,
I adore all your scars,
I adore all your faults,
I adore you.”

It is a lighter burden to be adored than loved.

So we laid her body in

her bed of daisies,

and set her hair ablaze

with sunflower petals,

and painted her eyelids
with raspberry tears,

and coated her lips

with the queen’s honey,

and covered her naked corpse

with ferns

so that she finally 
experienced the embrace

of a Mother.

I met a boy today

who had the sun in his hair,

the ocean in his eyes,

and the earth in his skin.

He never muttered a word,

but it were as if the

world around us

paused

and listened

to two broken hearts

slowly mending.