on those days we spent weaving
into each other on my mattress
perhaps we were writhing we just didn't know

we didn't have to care

if we let the summer fall into
the blue someone else would
haul it out
and resuscitate

the days we just let our phones ring
and wore the song to bed
beneath nothing
but our laughter thicker than my duvet

i guess i'm lucky i can be heartbroken
for a reason
i was heartbroken for so many reasons none
of which i can place or replace

on the wall where the sun tore our photos
into ribbons of shadow
we made the mistake of holding each other
too close
to the light

was i always warm or just aware that you were near me
i'm a rusted furnace with nothing but bones to burn
apparently
there's always a better fire burning in another town

as is the sea marvelous
from god’s
hands which sent her forth
to sleep upon the world

and the earth withers
the moon crumbles
one by one
stars flutter into dust

but the sea
does not change
and she goes forth out of hands and
she returns into hands

and is with sleep….

love,
    the breaking

of your
        soul
        upon
my lips

They come in waves.
Kamikaze planes or
lovely flowers and sweet lullabies.
Blood boils,
slapping against my skin,
Sometimes.
My love is seasonal,
It won't stay.
Don't expect anything from me.
You will be bitterly disappointed.

I cant blame the guy, when the devil wants to dance you dont say no.
Poor sap.

Hope you can handle the heat.

I to want to write remarkable words
In a language that I all my life have not heard

15-10-19
I want you to read this.
Know that I'm a psychopath.
It would be easier if you hated me for creeping up your neck.
For holding a snare around your ankle.

For being obsessed and inhuman.

If I'm not human. If I'm not real. I cannot be hurt.
And since your opinion matters the most in this hour, tell me I'm surreal. So I can surrender.

~

Barefoot.  
Floor.
I wish you could see me now.
Slowly moving my body to his lyrics.
"Oh mother I can feel.."*

Breath in my mouth so I won't die.
If that lust is too mad.
Then bury my flesh and mind among the soaked leaves.
As long as your skin grab my limbs, I'm fine.

this is a poem about how you sleep,
how your body grew cold like a corpse in a mortuary.
how it felt wrong to reach out and touch you.
did you know that you turned away from me
every time i tried to face you?
did you do it on purpose?
maybe you were afraid i would be able to see
you were dreaming of her,
that i would read it on your face.
lines by your mouth like obituary,
like roadmap, her bedroom,
the destination, mine, a pitstop.
loving you was like attending a funeral service for myself
and sitting in the front row. no.
loving you was like watching you pick out a casket
and call it practice. ****.
i know how sensitive you are about death.
i know it still hurts.
i know how everything hurts.
i am sorry for just being another thing that hurts.
i think i'm afraid to let you forget that you used to want me.
like if i can somehow dig deep enough,
wound you into remembering me.
i keep weapons-grade nostalgia in my back pocket
for the days i can feel myself slipping from your consciousness.  
i was born with scar tissue where skin should've been.
but this isn't about me.
this is about the way you sleep
like you're waiting for someone to close the lid,
cover you in dirt, and read a psalm.
this is about the way i tried to sing your pieces back together,
and the way my voice gives out
when i read the things you write for anyone other than me.
lover, friend, stranger,
i just wanted to show you how to love your darker parts.
i never meant to become one.
i am so ******* selfish.
but i swear i am trying to unlearn the steps.
and you used to think my two left feet were charming.
i am out of time in more ways than one.
i keep stepping on your toes.
i can't seem to stop tripping you up,
hoping that you'll fall back into whatever this was.

- m.f.