I have memorised the way
that your lips move
to the doleful tune of
I love you
the bitter taste
on your tongue
leaving a sour aftertaste
in my mind

It's obvious
It's so desperate to be near you that it has literally become part of you
It has found a way to sneak through and melt into you
And I'm jealous
Because I'm desperate to be near you
I worship your skin as the salt does
Your hair as the sunlight does
Your eyes as the laughter does
But I fear you may notice if I endeavor to be with you in every sense of the word
So I will continue to brood
In partial silence
Forever envious of the salt and sunlight and laughter

She had a frazzled sort of look about her. Wispy hair fell into her eyes which were watering from the allergies she often complained about, the ones that caused her nosebleeds so heavy, she'd nearly faint from blood loss. But beneath her red eyes and curly hair was this pale, pink cheeked girl who listened to  punk and wrinkled her nose. She was like an antique. Something worn down, beautiful and full of secrets and memories, that you'd find under a pile of books in a dark corner. She was sarcastic, flighty and judgmental, constantly angry with the world and culture that she'd been ****** into. She spent all her time forcing beauty and laughter into people's lives so they wouldn't see the shattered pieces of the world and subsequently herself that she tried to hide behind her back. Others might see this as sly or deceitful but it wasn't. Her lies were the selfless kind, if such exist. She wanted to protect people from the world that wore her down so cruelly and quickly, she became an antique person by the age of fifteen. This frazzled, determined, lovely girl may not change the world, but she changed my life.

Night is for the hours
Cowards,
Let a man of God speak or night
Will continue to burn flowers

It's been said napkins are the greatest currency
For it holds the food spittle of man
Like how ambulances sit waiting
To clean up after misfortunes
And make fortunes for the fortun-
Who Ate paragraphs of spider webs
And patted weaves like black men seating at the back of the limited luxurious Q46 bus nodding heads to the noise of Toyota cameras they couldn't afford in the land where they spend $300 million to part the seas for summer entertainment
While they only spent $40 on California cuteness and walked on water with 13 Jesus' and ate at the bottom of the sea with only three tokes from the plastic bag

Let a man of God speak or night
Will continue to burn flowers
For we graduated from 30 hot nights of mathematics
Only to find that the future will always be white and in the *******

I was a traveler.
She was a poet.
l visited almost half of the world.
She wrote about it.
I loved to wonder.
She was wanderlust.
I've been from North to West,
from Australia to Antarctica.
She saw them from her computer screen.
I loved her,
as much as I loved to travel the world.
She loved me as if I was the world..
or something. Though in my eyes,
she didn't even compare to the Eiffel tower
or the great wall of China.
She was much more majestic.
She said she could write about me all day.
I said I could explore every inch of her,
every day. And although I traveled everywhere
and anywhere you could imagine,
she was by far my favorite tourist attraction.
She was my world.
She was the whole world.
In a day.

your voice was running short
your breath growing raspy
and you couldn't speak any more
but I hope you saw me in your dreams, darling

I hope you thought of me
in your blissful escape from reality
even if it was only temporary
I hope I crossed your mind
even for a short time

Tender words spring
From her heartstrings
Tender words whisper no
Turn around, see
On the ground she
Whispers please, don't go
Hold tears no more
No reason for
Teardrops not to flow
Heart on a string
From whence tender words spring
Never let her go