(LET'S PLAY A GAME OF TAG.)
I'm It.
Chasing after you, chasing-- tag.
You're it.
Game over.
You ended our game,
When you never chased back.

“Don’t worry because
     I will make time
     to stare at you;
     tracing your collarbones
     like constellations and;
     watch your eyes
     obligingly flutter close
     and darling, I’ll kiss each eyelid
     hoping you'll ******* love,
     turn your eyes into the colors
     of someone you loved
     and in time, they’ll turn into mine  
     and you will dedicate your time,
     staring at me
     as much as I did to you
     when he didn’t.”

Mental mechanics adjusting my brain,
speed up my motor, tighten my chain.

They say I am timed right
(they can tell just by listening);
but, don’t understand why
still I am missing.

A memory perhaps, a trauma, a wreck
jarred loose some something,
they said they would check.

They tinkered, they tested,
they wired me up, gauged my
compression, then fired me up.

I trembled, I sputtered, I coughed
and I cried, I started,
then stuttered,

then died.

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.

I wish I could put my tongue
on exactly what I want
as much as I put it against yours.
I wish I could hold your heart
in my hands
instead of leaving mine in a ****** pile
in yours.
I wish I was addicted to my heartbeat
after three (or four) **** rips
instead of my heartbeat
when I'm dressing to see you.
I wish I knew my mother
as well as I got to know yours
when we sat side by side
waiting for you to wake up
after swallowing a bottle of aspirin.
I wish I cut up your letters
instead of my own arms
but I can't think of any other way
to get you out of my skin.
I wish I loved myself
as much as I love you
but I wasn't lying when I said
you are the better part of me.

i'm still trying to figure out how to tell someone i love
that i don't want to exist anymore on this earth
how are you supposed to say that
killing yourself sounds like a better option than suffering through life with half a mind

i think about what people would do if i were to die
would they cry?
would they pretend they were my friend and wish they'd talked to me longer?
i don't think feigning relationships is such a good way to say goodbye
but hell
at least i'd be known to have a lot of friends

it makes me sad to think that my body has gotten so tired
that i fall asleep in my classes when i used to be the only one awake
it's almost like i'm 80 years old on the inside and my heart is failing with my lungs
and i'm 16 on the outside with bags the shades of night
i'm peppered with bruises the colour of magenta but i find they bring me comfort
it lets me know i'm not the only thing breaking

my veins are too