the more years i clock,
the faster time slips by
‘til my mileage feels close
to ticking past my capability,

and the clock swallows my skin
biting wrinkles into my face
‘til i can’t remember my beginnings:
can only fear my end

just twenty years, but it’s already july
summer scorches sticky smiles
masking questions behind tired eyes
“what am i doing with my life?”

at 5 AM i loved you again

loved the seductive sapphires of your eyes
a certain snare for fools like me,

loved the shape of your hands and
the spaces between your fingers
where mine used to be

i loved the flick of a swirl in your hair
and the thickness of it under my nails,

the husky depth of your ***** laugh
and the wonky smile it accompanied,
a crooked glint of glee

your warm body and the wiry hair of your legs,
firm abdominals and stubble barely there,
just enough to scratch my lips

at 5 AM i loved you again
but at six, i woke up

sunlight shining clarity on daylight’s disappointing truths:
none of the above counts for **** all
when it comes to exes like you

used to sing along
sleepless, sad boy
flatsound’s sullen symphonies
“i’ll go to sleep at a decent time
when i find something
worth waking up for”

these days i like to close my eyes
just gone ten at night;
wake up with the sunlight
caressing my cheeks
just the way you used to

because even though
us became you and i
you’re still my something
worth waking up for

minutes shy of eleven,
       the sharp blur of too many streetlights
   aiding the throb of caffeine

we lay in the road under a starless sky
            and flirted with death
    for the sake of adrenaline

        cold, wind burning my lungs
              long route back, avoiding trouble
         but my smiles were real


                                               and so were you

you fell in love with someone alive
now all your words are soft and sweet
and full of dreary domesticity,
so daringly delicate, like you forgot
how to write death as a love letter

my empty heart can’t empathise

your love i love, but myself i despise
for feeling robbed of your sadness,
the way its stanzas stole my breath.
what a thing to miss your loneliness
for the fear of being lonely in mine

you created this
can’t you see? it’s you
the way you want to be.
a bright flare
of pure white light, stark
against the bloodied canvas
of your reality;
your hands
reaching out
emptily
towards salvation

stop it.
they aren’t going to save you.

who’s going to save you?

me

you’re going to save you