The detergent that smells like you gives me a rash

I hope he sleeps well
with no bad dreams tonight

I hope he sees me when he closes his eyes
and knows that I care

That his sleep is filled with nothing but sweetness
and his thoughts are kind and gentle

I hope he thinks of me before his head falls to his pillow
and knows that I will be thinking of him

That his slumber is graced with tender kisses
and that he is not woken abruptly

I hope the demons that haunt him leave him be
if only for the night

I hope that upon waking he knows
that I have been visiting him in his sleep,
making sure he makes it home safely by morning

I haven't written you a poem in a while

Maybe it is that I am in love with you,
or perhaps I am simply in love with the sadness.

My friend, put down your weapon.
It is out of your control, she isn't here anymore.
She moved on after you left, don't you see?
There is no need to wage war on yourself.

Please put down the gun.
Do not blame her for moving on, you left.
It is not the fault of the one she left with-
in fact, this has nothing to do with her.

No, this has to do with you, and you alone.
Do not write wish lists wishing suffering to anyone,
it does no one any good whatsoever.

Take care of yourself, put down the knife.
You are a victim of circumstance,
do not become the criminal.

he isnt even worth a poem

Today, I wrote a poem, and it rhymed.
And for a few minutes, I felt like I'd be okay.

cover me in bruises
make me feel your love
strap me down and inject yourself into my bloodstream
feed my addiction, I don't want to quit you
I want to be baptized in your waters
cover my body in kisses and sweet nothings, ****** and bruised,
and send me down the river

Dancing with you.
Is there a time more beautiful, more fragile?
Everyone else, everything else, is blurred.
Time stops, sound stops.
We're faster than light, you and I.
Even if they don't understand.
We aren't in love for them to understand.

We don't dance anymore.
We aren't in love anymore.
There isn't anything left for them to not understand.
I'm in love,
you're in denial.

I wrote a poem today but I left the paper in the back pocket of
my jeans and it went through the wash.

I break my back for you
but you don't say hello.

I haven't slept in months
but you can't remember my name.

I love you with my entire being
but you don't even notice.

I wait for the day I can stop writing these ******* poems
but that will be the day you start caring.

You are always in my head
some kind of permanent residency
I hope it's comfy.

I guess you must like it there
because you sleep there
and you seem quite content.

You seem to have cleared out everything else that was in there
to make more room for yourself
because you are the only one up there.

You have a way of running me
through my head
because everything I do I have you in mind.


I think I should really stop
writing all these ******* poems
about you.

Your eyes are moons,
lighting the dark skies of my mind.

Their grey tint whispers through the trees,
into the deep forests of my heart.

Moons that hide away through clouds of agony,
clouds holding back rain.

They still shine even though the sun is out,
and to me, they will always shine.